Business Time
by double scotch.single malt
Summary: Erotic Tales from Seattle Grace. All male cast point of view. Six chapters, one per character, each erotic in its own rite. Future fic, based on historical facts through Season 5.
1. Business Time, Richard Webber

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, et al. **

**So ... I can't believe I am posting this here, Sheila … this is for you girl (she wants a complete list of my stuff on this site … so I aim to please, you heard it here first), though this fic still was written for my good friend Jeni, who was brilliant enough to send this song to me once, a long, long time ago! **

**SO … the song … the song … the song!**

**These guys are fanatical; you can check them out on HBO (hilarious, bright, ingenious and ballsy are just some of the words that come to mind when I think of this duo), Flight of the Conchords. This song, "Business Time" remains one of my favorites. Try a search on youtube, you'll love them!  
**

**This story has six parts in all, one part for each male character … all erotic, all wild and all suss-tastic in their own rite ... think of this story as sort of a vision of the future, given the characters' historical facts through Season 5, which was when this story was constructed. I truly hope you enjoy!**

###

**Lyrics for **** Flight of the Conchords' "Business Time":**

Ahh yeah, that's right baby

Girl, tonight we're gonna make love

You know how I know baby?

Cuz its Wednesday, and Wednesday night is the night that we make love.

Tuesday night is the night that we go and visit your mother, but

Wednesday night is the night that we make love.

Cuz everything is just right, conditions are perfect.

There's nothing good on TV, conditions are perfect.

You lean in close and say something sexy like, _"I might go to bed I've _

_got work in the morning."_

I know what you're trying to say baby.

You're tryin' to say, _"Ooh yeah, it's business time, it's business time."_

_Chorus (Both) _

It's business, its business time!

(That's what you're trying to say, you're trying to say let's get down to business.)

Its business time.

Its business, its business time!

That's what you're tryin' to say, you're tryin' to say let's get down to

business it's business time!

Ooh, Next thing you know were in the bathroom brushing our teeth.

That's all part of it. That's foreplay.

Then you go sort out the recycling, that's not part of it but its still

very important.

Then we're in the bedroom. You're wearing that ugly old baggy

t-shirt from that team building exercise you did for your old work,

and it's never looked better on you.

Mmmhh, team building exercise not tonight. Oh you don't know

what you're doing to me. I remove my jeans but trip over them

cuz I've still got my shoes on, but then I turn it into a sexy dance.

Next thing you know I'm down to just my socks and you know

when I'm down to just my socks what time it is. It's time for

business. It's business time.

_Chorus (Both)_

Its business, its business time!

(You know when I'm down to just my socks it's time for business,

that's why they call them business socks.)

Its business, its business time!

Ooh, makin' love, makin' love for two, makin' love for two minutes.

When it's with me you only need two minutes, cuz I'm so intense

Two minutes in heaven is better than one minute in heaven.

You say something like, _"Is that it?"_

I know what you're trying to say, you're trying to say, _"Ahh yeah that's it."_

Then you tell me you want some more

Well I'm not surprised, but I'm quite sleepy.

_Chorus (Both) _

Its business, its business time!

(Business hours are over, baby)

Its business, its business time.

It`s business, it`s business time!

###

**Business Time – Part 1 – Richard Webber**

Richard Webber took another sip of his seltzer and looked around the makeshift poker table situated off the dining room of his brand new two-bedroom luxury apartment. As his eyes met each of his opponents – _he realized he had no idea what he was doing_ – and this poker game wasn't exactly what he was referring to because – _poker faces were not his to read or to portray (evidenced by his not-so-secret affair with Ellis Grey long ago) – _no, Richard Webber was no poker player, for he couldn't bluff worth a damn, not to mention he had wavering eyes and shaky hands … outside the OR anyway.

His eyes fell on Derek Shepherd, _'Shep' –_ _student had certainly become teacher in this relationship_ – he mused, pressing his lips together in a tight smile now, inwardly sighing at all they had been through together in the many years they had worked together. Looking at this happy man before him – _now married to Meredith Grey-Shepherd_ – he was the best de facto son-in-law a man could ask for; he sighed again, inwardly swelling with pride and relief. Derek had certainly grown up … he was bright, articulate, caring – _a wonderful father and_ _an adoring husband_ – and in many ways he embodied everything Richard ever wanted for himself. And now with the Board's pending approval, Derek was also destined to become the next Chief of Surgery – _a position they would share for eighteen months_ – after Richard returned from what he hoped would be the _'business'_ trip of his lifetime.

_He only prayed to God that she would agree to come with him. _

Derek smiled from ear to ear now, having just ousted the ballyhoo of Mark Sloan's _'winning hand'_, the old friends sparred silently now, each taking sip of their shared poison of choice: scotch. Sloan, true to form, lacked focus to be a true player – _well, not that he wasn't a 'player'_ – in the true sense of the word – _he defined the term 'player'_ – his sexual prowess, legendary to the point where the man was an enigma _only_ to himself while he was hated by a lion's share of the hundred or so nurses on staff at Grace. Except that all that changed when he met his match in Callie Torres – _and Richard couldn't have been happier_ – because if Callie did anything, it was _him_ a favor by keeping Mark out of trouble and in the OR where he belonged – _and home with her at night_ – for the early stages of her pregnancy had not been kind and Mark had become dutiful in his care of his woman, so much so that he almost bailed on this evening's activities. _Almost._

The next man in formation was Owen Hunt – _after having gotten off to a rough start a few years ago _– the man had truly come into his own and in the end there was a substance to Owen Hunt – _his substantial character, his innate ability to see clearly in a crisis, to rise above the petty_ –all of these traits and more that Richard came to appreciate in Owen, admiring him for his inner strength and sanctity and his outward rebellion and weak smiles _– yes, he was complex man, he was downtrodden at times _– but he persevered over the years and now sat across from him puffing wild circles of cigar smoke into the air above them, all the while trying to steal a peek at the hand of his _'right hand man'_, George O'Malley who glared at his comrade, silently challenging him to a duel. Owen cackled like the devil with a bright mischievous smile – _one that covered his face and even reached his eyes_ – flanked now by a new band of brothers, yes the man who sat across from him was happy. Richard reflected on Owen's accomplishments for a beat – _with his ER running better than ever before and of course the love of his good, strong woman _– the _rare free love_ of Cristina Yang, it was true Owen Hunt had a lot to be happy and carefree about. He blew another large plume of smoke over O'Malley again –_smoke and daggers_ – but the two men only laughed like devils at his mediocre diversion tactic.

George O'Malley waved his free hand through the smoke and took a long sip of his beer. Richard was surprised the sergeant even consented to come for this inaugural gentlemen's evening – _as he often spent much of his free time at work, now a full time resident down in the pit_ – saving countless lives and OR hours with his dedication and tenacity to work fast and find solutions where oftentimes others found none. He was bright man – _and there were times when Richard didn't think he was going to make it_ – yes, there were times, _trying times for O'Malley_, after his father's death and his short-lived marriage to Torres, Richard had almost prepared himself for the man to up and quit. But that's the thing … he never did – _for_ _O'Malley's don't quit_ – they rise above, they're from good stock and then of course there was Owen – _he saved the man without even trying_ – he gave him hope and direction through his tutelage and in the end, that's all he really needed. Now, if he could only tell Lexie Grey how hopelessly in love with her he was … maybe he could find some happiness _outside_ of the ER. Richard watched him thoughtfully now – _he was going to win this hand, despite Karev's best efforts to snuff him out_ – yeah, if he'd put money on any of these jokers, it would be O'Malley.

Alex Karev sat in between he and George – _now a beyond brilliant OB surgeon_ – his calculated risk-taking had proved time and time again that he could save lives _before_ they were even living and breathing free entities. In this game and many others, he'd be the one to give O'Malley a run for his money for sure – _the two younger gentlemen had always been at odds_ – but in the last few years had become accepting of one another, long gone were the days of slap fights in the middle of the wilderness. There's another one who Richard thought wouldn't make it – _with his dark and twisty side –_ he thought for sure Karev would tank somewhere along the line …somehow drown himself in the misery of every life he couldn't save. But he didn't – _he saved instead_ – yes, Karev, with his well-toned muscles and wrestler's physique was the type of man who could pick someone up and carry them out of their worst nightmare. He'd fallen in love, _deeply in love with Isobel Stevens_ perhaps even that first year – _that year of the horrific LVAD wire debacle (the year Ellis came back and only died later, the year Meredith came back into his life)_ – what year and a lifetime ago that was. And throughout it all Karev stayed strong. Back then he was in it for himself, but as he grew Richard noticed subtle little changes in his character, the softening of bedside manner, the way he became an advocate for his patients. All preparing him for an even bigger challenge – _Izzie's battle with cancer_ – for by then he was stronger in so many other ways. For her battle with cancer was one fought by everyone on the team – _emotionally, medically, physically, spiritually_ – and yes, she had survived and in the end but it was Alex who had carried her out of the mess – _his love for her never faltered_ – a fact O'Malley (_still Izzie's best friend_) had finally accepted when the two lovers had remarried in a simple ceremony, in which O'Malley gave her away … _again._

Richard smiled brightly just thinking now about that day a couple of years ago, that second wedding day – _yes,_ _there was so much to be happy about_ – he recalled feeling centered and grounded for the first time in a long while, the bright and happy faces of his young friends and colleagues were enough to know they somehow made it to the other side of all the tragedy. He glanced down at his hand one last time before an uproarious boyish laughter brought him back to the task at hand. O'Malley had won, hands down, pardon the pun. Richard threw his cards down on the table and watched the fellas for a moment longer – _red smiling faces, bright cheerful eyes, wild with laughter, drinks in hands, peanut shells everywhere_ – carrying on now as Owen dealt the next round.

"It's _'business time'_ fellas," Owen said as he flipped the cards down for the players. "Put your money where your mouth is O'Malley," he sneered with a bit of mischief.

Richard held his hand up. "I'm sitting this one out," he chuckled weakly, suddenly needing a moment alone – _'business time'_ – yes, the time for business had come, to take charge, to take care of it once and for all … he only hoped she would give him a chance.

"Fire in the hole!" Owen retorted, swiping the cards back up to deal again.

"First man down!" Mark howled; slapping his hand down on the table, his eyes dancing as his crack hung in the recycled air all around them.

"I'll be back," Richard muttered, shaking his head. "I'll be back," he repeated, pushing his chair back from the table, he rose and nodded to Shepherd who eyed him carefully.

"You alright Chief?" George asked circumspectly before he quickly glanced over his cards, planning his next move already.

"Yeah … yeah," he found himself saying, although he barely bought the lame reply himself – _see, poker player he was not_ – he thought as he swiped empty from the card table before he turned absently away to make a swift exit and walked into the kitchen to fill his glass. He stopped when he entered the room – _for it was a kitchen that only a chef of a five-star restaurant could be proud of _– but like the dining room, he spent no time in this space, there was no one to make a meal for, to share a meal with. How did this happen, he wondered again as the conversation from the poker table filtered into his private space.

"_Dude, he's got it bad," came Alex's voice. _

"_You know, I was thinking … the last time he had one of these gentlemen things was when he was living out on your land," Mark offered pointedly. "So, what gives?" he wondered. _

"_Look, he finally moved in here, it's a big step, a big admission," Derek defended. "His marriage is over –"_

"_But he asked Adele to go away with him, he must be anxious about her reply –" George interjected. _

"_You __knew__ about that?" Derek asked incredulously. _

"_He told me … wait, was that some big ass secret?" George heaved. "Damn it!" he hissed._

"_Apparently not…," Derek mused. _

"_Well, he didn't tell me!" Mark retorted. _

"_Dude, what would you have said to the man?" Karev laughed. "Offered your services as his wing man –" _

"_I already did that, a long time ago … plus – I've moved on – or grown up … or …," his voice trailed off. _

"_Don't even try it Sloan – you've been aching to get out lately – and since when do you turn down a drunken night of debauchery, don't even go there," O'Malley answered smugly. _

"_He's got a point, it's not __our__ fault Callie's lost her sex drive – it's __yours__ …," Owen offered pointedly. _

"_That's true, but she keeps __blaming__ me!" Mark defended himself. "Hello? It takes two to … you know!" he boomed. _

"_Don't even talk to me about it – I've been there, __twice__ – and I keep saying she'll come around, just give her a few more days, I'm telling you, your lucky thirteen weeks is right around the corner," Derek countered. _

"_So you've said, and then what – poof – the sex drive just comes back? I don't buy it!" he exclaimed. _

"_It can – and it might – that's all I'm saying," Derek offered. "And this, I'll say this – the Chief's trying here, really trying to be happy – and I think he asked Adele to go on this trip to solidify something," he elaborated. _

"_Derek, it's been years!" Mark chastised. "What's there to solidify?" he asked; his voice subdued, serious now. _

"_Yes, it has – but it doesn't change it for __him__ – all the shit still happened and he still has to deal with the fallout and maybe – maybe he needed this one last chance – without other factors in the way … to ask … to take back something that was lost …," Derek countered, his tone softer now too. _

The men were quiet for a moment before Richard heard the cards shuffling – _small words and easy voices from the players, the tempo had changed, the subject was dropped _– the game had resumed and he was off the hook, for now. Derek's words hung in the cobwebs of Richard's mind now though – _yes, he wanted to solidify something_ – he wanted Adele to know he was serious, that he meant _business_, that he wasn't ready to give up – _despite their divorce, despite their sordid history_ – he wasn't ready to call it quits. On that note, he also decided he wasn't ready to rejoin the festivities so he turned away from the doorway and slipped into the hallway instead. He made his way down to his bedroom – _his feet sinking into the new plush carpet_ – as he walked through the French doors and closed them after him. He heaved a sigh filled with relief – _his eyes sinking into the 'soothing, masculine tones'_ – used by his interior designer as he pressed his back against the doors in an effort to hold himself upright.

_Breathe in, breathe out, he coached himself. _

Once he regained his equilibrium, he crossed the room and stood before the expansive view of the city of Seattle – _the top of the Space Needle_ – hidden within the low lying clouds. The windows were crystal clear – _clean, not a speck of dust_ – yet the skyline was hazy, frayed around the edges like an old, tired photograph. Richard pressed his fingertips along the window, bracing himself once again. He had called Adele days ago – _damn, it was Wednesday night already_ – he'd been anxiously awaiting her reply for almost a week! And he only agreed to this evening after Shep thought it would be a good form of distraction, although so far it only proved to remind him how alone he was and what a mess everything in his life was still … even after all these years.

_He was alone._

And for the millionth time in his adult life, he silently beat himself up for the decisions he made that led him to this moment – _right here, right now_ – in a luxury high rise apartment, perched high above the city – _a beautiful career as a surgeon almost behind him now _– with nothing to show for it except for pain and loneliness.

_He was alone. _

His life was in shambles, a fact he had come to accept, a fact he was well aware of – _a station he was more than familiar with_ – for he'd been here before, his version of ground zero. Countless times. Too many times to count.

_He was alone. _

He'd been there the first time he exited an on call room after he and Ellis had finally succumb to their animalistic and unavoidable attraction for one another.

_He was alone. _

He's been there over and over and over again – _whenever they met_ – he felt alone in those moments after they made their connection, shaking like a leaf on the inside over his betrayal to his wife, his life, his vows … his sweet Adele.

_He was alone. _

He'd been there when he finally allowed himself to fall in love with Ellis – _his heart's capacity to love two women was painful_ – painful to admit and painful to live with as it broke and swelled simultaneously, leaving Richard stuck somewhere in the middle, somewhere between heaven and hell.

_He was alone. _

He'd been there again when Ellis decided to leave Thatcher for him – _her love for him just as real as his love for her_ – except that he knew he could never leave Adele. He wasn't strong as strong as the women in his life, this he knew.

_He was alone. _

And there again – _in perpetuity_ – on every turn of the year, every time he wanted a drink, every time he lost a patient, every night (_although few and far between)_ that Adele made him stay away from the hospital – _every time the world became bigger or scarier_ – he was back there at ground zero … alone.

_He was alone. _

And yet, he was there again when he finally told Ellis as much – _alone again and again throughout his lifetime as her cries and pleas of frustration and despair haunted him since that day at the park_ – with Meredith riding on the carousel in the background, God, he could still hear her cries if he closed his eyes on the moment.

_He was alone. _

And finally, he was there again when Ellis returned to his life – _hopelessly lost –_ and without her beautiful mind. Only then in that moment – _in those early days of her return did he realize_ – he'd been waiting for her return and upon learning she would never resurface as the force she once was … only then were his inner light and his spirit burned out for good.

_He was truly alone. _

Richard sighed heavily and pushed back against the window – _the skyline shimmering through his thick tears now_ – as he closed his eyes and held his head back, letting those tears recede until they never existed at all. He turned away from the window – _why hadn't she at least called him to let him know she wouldn't be coming with him_ – or to remind him once again that he was too late. He crossed the room with the intent to put it all behind him for the moment and rejoin the men – _the game_ – and that's when he saw it. One of his most prized possessions. He backpedaled and sat down on the edge of his perfectly made bed.

He reached over and scoffed, it wasn't like he forgot it was there, hell it was the only decorative item in this whole place that he personally added – _placing it on 'his side', his bedside table … it was the last thing he saw whenever he fell asleep in his bed here_ – but tonight it hit home … tonight the memories came flooding back over the levees he'd taken years to secure. He held the frame tightly – _laying it across his legs briefly before he allowed himself the luxury of really looking at it _– God, she was beautiful in that moment, perhaps even more so than on their wedding day or the first day he set his eyes upon her. This photograph was important to him in many ways and perhaps most poignant reason was because he took the photo himself. Because as much as it was her moment _– it was his_ – and _he_ wanted to capture it – _her_ – for himself and that meant something to him.

The photograph was taken in the afternoon following their arrival at the small boutique bed and breakfast in The Bahamas – _where Richard had quickly booked a long, long weekend a few weeks after Ellis' hasty departure, gone from Grace, gone from his life and seemingly overnight_ – his ex-lover's actions unequivocally propelled him back into his marriage faster than his vows put him there to begin with. And for the first time in years – _he and Adele had gone away on a real vacation_ – leaving his pager behind as he whisked his wife away in an attempt to right his wrongs … to rip the Band-Aid off because he had no other choice. The trip was a struggle, a moral dilemma at best – _a more than a monumental occasion for him_ – of course now he knew it had been the same for Adele.

Tears pricked his eyes, even now, over _twenty …five … years …_ later _– just thinking about the events that led up to the taking of this photograph_ – making love to his wife after so many months of avoidance and obligatory relations, no … there was nothing he would have changed about that weekend so very long ago. For that trip came to be one of the last true vacations they would share – _one of the last times they would truly connect as lovers_ – for it just hurt too much for both of them in their own unique and private ways.

Their light had burned out, Richard's connection with Adele had always been deep and spiritual, but he had trampled all over that spirit with Ellis – _marring the beauty of 'them'_ – but on that weekend all those years ago he was reminded of just how much he loved Adele and just how well they fit together – _how they went together in mind, body and spirit_ – how she felt under the weight of his body, how he felt submersed deep within her, how she called out his name in bliss, his angel's cry of love and passion –_ it was like a puncture wound that would never heal _– and it hurt … _the reminder of what was lost and what could have been, hurt like hell for the pair of them._

###

_Richard entered the master suite of the five-star bed and breakfast he and his wife would share for the next seventy-two hours. He had stayed on the beach after they took a short walk and a short swim. Adele had retreated to their room to shower and freshen up, while he stayed behind, perhaps to clear his head, or maybe to allow her some privacy … from whom, he had no idea, but all of a sudden he felt like a stranger to her. He stepped into the air conditioned room and spotted Adele on the terrace, barefoot and beautiful, sipping a glass of sweet tea. He smiled – she truly was a gorgeous woman – he turned to make his way to the bathroom to shower away the debris of salt on his skin and oh, so much more. _

_Once inside the simple bathroom, he turned the shower on and wasted no time before he stepped into the scalding hot spray of the water. While he scrubbed his body, his mind drifted to their time on the beach just an hour ago – wondering if perhaps the magic was not entirely lost or forgotten – could he dare himself to believe that he could make this work? After their short jaunt down the hot sandy beach, they sought relief – a change in scenery as they dipped their hot skin into the cool depths of the blue, organic sea – all the while the white endless beach, so full of history and promise and possibility – stared back at them, taunting them with its untainted beauty. _

_Once out beyond the larger waves, they stood on their toes and held hands briefly, Adele's familiar fingers laced through his like no time had passed, once again a perfect fit. And in that moment, he looked at her; his dear, strong woman and she smiled – not radiantly like he knew she was capable of – but she smiled nonetheless, and in that moment … the current of the water was not the __only__ current that coursed through Richard's body. With sun shining down all around them – her supple lips, big and plump, her bright eyes dancing beneath her long, beautiful eye lashes, her generous breasts swelling with the water – Richard effectively woke up._

_The couple ducked under a set of breaking waves – and there was a moment under the water Richard swore he would never forget – he was cleansed somehow, holding onto the unwavering tether that had become his wife. And maybe it was the intensity of the water's motion, or the bubbles popping all over his dead skin, or perhaps the pummel of the natural salt that cleansed him – well … no matter what is was … he felt renewed and rejuvenated before he even pushed his way through the water's surface again where he found Adele – right where he left her – her hand still in his, her wedding bands still a sparkling symbol … to her … and a reminder to him. _

_He brought her to him – the warm bright blue water splashing all around them as he did, her long, lean legs instinctually found his waist, her arms found his neck and she held on tight with fierce passion – and it felt … good. Richard ran his hands up and down the beautiful curves of her wet body and let the water rock and lull and lull and rock them for a beat. He felt an overwhelming desire to kiss her as she took his skull in her hands – the familiarity of her touch was truly unmatched – he loved her still, this he knew of course … he betrayed her, but he loved her still._

_His chest tightened – with what, he asked himself – love or sorrow?_

_The spell was broken when Adele laughed breathlessly and so did he as they realized the halter strap of her ecru bikini top came loose and trailed behind them in the water for a split-second before he secured it for her once more, moving his hands along the smooth skin of her round shoulders down to her ribcage to her hips, finally cupping her firm tush with his hands, where he left them – basking in the heat generated between them – and again, he felt good … more than good to hold her in his arms. _

_Richard stepped from the shower and dried himself off with a fresh, plush white towel. He moved to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face – wake up, wake up, wake up – he demanded silently as he patted his face dry. He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a beat and shook his head with self-loathing – already having decided he was not going to tell Adele about his affair with Ellis – for it was over and she left town, and telling Adele would only prove to needlessly hurt her and she didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve any of this. And nothing he could do would change the history of his indiscretions or erase the pain he harbored in his own heart, he that much._

_What was that saying, 'ignorance is bliss'? Well that is likely a true statement – for __he__ would know, __he__ would remember, __he__ would be held hostage by his actions – and he had a feeling that this affair, although most certainly over, would stay with him for a lifetime and beyond …and so it was true, he was far from ignorant._

_He slipped on a fresh pair of boxer shorts and scrutinized himself once more. He must move on, he must recommit himself to his wife, to his life … because he was not strong enough to think about losing Ellis, he was not strong enough to follow his heart's desires, remembering that once, in the not too distant past his heart and soul resided with Adele. He wanted to make his way back to her – to make love to her, freely and with a clear conscience – but after everything he had done … was that even possible? Maybe, maybe not. But the truth was … he wanted to try. And with that thought in mind he left the enclave of the bathroom in search of his wife. _

_He found her standing there still – on the terrace overlooking the water – her mint green wrap dress flying all around her in the salty breeze. She moved her hand along her brow and took another sip of her sweet tea. Her body was just as beautiful as ever, so drastically different from Ellis in shape and form – with her beautiful ebony skin glowing in the natural sunlight, her voluptuous curves, her trademark hourglass shape, she defined zaftig – she turned slightly, her side profile revealing her striking angular, yet round, heart-shaped face …she turned some more and then she saw him. She looked at him quizzically through the glass – she looked different, stronger somehow – and he was curious about that all of a sudden as she raised her hand and curled her pointer finger toward him, silently ordering him to join her._

_Richard did as he was told by pushing the French door open and stepping over the threshold, maintaining his hold on her eyes as he did. The air was warm and sticky and sweet – fragrant with freesia and something else he couldn't put his finger on – he came to stand in front of her … his wife. She smiled coyly – a small smile, perhaps one meant just for him – and he sighed heavily, allowing his fears and trepidations to be carried out sea in the wind. She smiled again before she looked him square in the eyes – she definitely had something on her mind – and he couldn't read her – had he really been so absent for so long that he could no longer read his wife's expressions? He cocked his head to the side and smiled weakly, waiting for her to make the first move. It seemed to him she was hedging, sparring … not quite willing to let her guard down in front of him. He moved closer still, suddenly craving proximity. _

"_Adele my belle," he whispered; his voice low and husky, she giggled at the reverberation of the old moniker he made up whist they were courting. "What's on your mind?" he asked hesitantly, not quite sure if he was ready for her answer. _

_Her hands found his hipbones and she pulled him closer, her fingers dancing along the waistband of his boxers. She looked up and batted her eyelashes. "Business, Richard," she answered softly – her melodic voice funneling into the small space between them – as she peeked up at him to him now from under her long lashes, she giggled at their old private joke._

"_Business, huh," he chuckled, leaning closer, feeling her heat. "It's business time, is it?" he asked thickly. _

"_Yes," she answered, her hot breath breezed across his bare chest, the sun no match for her natural heat. "It's business time," she answered, finally pressing her supple lips against his chest, over his heart. His muscle reacted; pumped up and pulsing against the gentle force of her lips as his head lolled back for a beat. _

"_Are you open for business?" Richard asked, ducking his head down again. He took her fleshy earlobe in between his lips and sucked and sucked, breathing in her familiar essence as he did._

"_Oh yes, yes," she sighed softly into his skin, trembling in his broad arms, her own arms around his neck – his hands on her hips, grounding himself – already having lost himself in her familiarity … for she was like coming home. _

_With her blessing hanging in the thick air between them Richard wasted no time before he gathered her in his arms and covered her lips with his, pulsing, massaging, melting into her – and there they kissed each other, passionately – and for the first time in months he held his wife the way a husband, a lover, a life-companion was meant to. He felt Adele acquiesce – further relaxing into his embrace – as her hands found his skull once again. And for the first time in a long time she did her best to wield control over their kisses – and in that moment Richard relented – giving up his traditionally officious role in their lovemaking in favor of letting her guide him. _

_She turned their bodies and walked them backwards, their lips never parting – tongues dancing a slow waltz now, becoming acclimated once again – temperatures and heartbeats rising in crescendo until suddenly there was no turning back. He pressed Adele up against the cool glass of the French door, struggling to find the latch now. Unable to keep his hands off of her, he abandoned the idea and brought her flush up against him – his raging cock pulsed against her groin only growing harder as she gasped with untamed delight at the evidence of his arousal – damn, he'd forgotten what the taste of her on his tongue did to him. Adele released her arms from his neck and snaked her hands behind her back to pop the latch, the couple stumbled into the air-conditioned suite. _

_Richard's head was spinning – dizzy and intoxicated with suppressed lust – as he took control once again and swiftly walked her, caressing her, coaxing her toward the lavish bedroom. Once through the doorway, Adele pulled herself from his lips and led him to the overly made up bed. She gently pushed on his chest with a small smile – he sat down – and she stepped in between his legs. And in that moment, he was overcome by her heat; her energy – the power of her – long forgotten, but so easily remembered now. He looked up and found his wife's steady, deep and soulful eyes, thick with unshed tears – she was somewhere different – somewhere between happiness and lust and … something else, something indescribable – what was it – pain, loneliness … regret? She smiled weakly and he reached up and ran his fingertips along her hairline, pausing for a beat before he made another move. _

_He was awestruck by her innocent beauty then – so soft and gentle and innate – all of which was further accentuated by the late afternoon sun filtering into the room, creating a halo of light behind her … emphasizing the glow of her skin from their kisses, her swollen lips, the raw need he found within her penetrating eyes – she was an idol – something to behold for sure. Still under her spell, lost, so lost within her deep, dark gateways, Richard moved his hand along her neck and down to her shoulders, just under the cap sleeve made from the silky mint green fabric and then followed the line of her exposed flesh, resting his fingertips on her clavicle there as he took in the sight of her, moving his eyes over her body for a beat. He smiled into the moment; he always loved that – the plane of her beautiful dark skin just along the valley of her breasts – she moved closer still. Her breathing labored now as she placed her hands along his shoulders, perhaps in an effort to ground herself._

_Richard moved in then, pressing his lips to any and all bare skin he could find, Adele slumped forward, leaning in now as his lips and tongue moved along her heated flesh, nipping, pulsing and massaging as he untied her dress with one fluid movement, allowing the silky fabric to fall open. _

"_Adele," Richard muttered into the bare flesh of her abdomen._

_She reacted by shrugging her shoulders, allowing her dress to fall to the ground, revealing her naked body. His chest tightened as he leaned forward and kissed her flesh over and over and over again. He felt her succumb to his ministrations, grasping at his shoulders as the crown of his head repeated brushed against the underside of her full breasts. _

"_Adele," he whispered her name again as he pulled his lips away from her skin, peeking up, searching her eyes for further permission._

_With relief he was met only with her smiling eyes, although he could still see those small flecks of sadness etched deep within them as he brought his mouth to one of her dark beautiful nipples, maintaining his gaze now as he held her heavy flesh in his hands and feasted upon her engorged pleasure point – sucking the nipple, massaging it along the groove of his tongue only to release and blow across it, watching it tighten and grow in response – he let the flesh fall from his mouth and attacked the opposite breast now, his eyes still glued on hers, watching as she slipped under, leaning forward, gasping in pleasure as he pulled on the taut nub with his lips, before he began flicking it with his tongue, his fire only fueled more powerfully by her stifled cries and the painful pressure of her fingernails pressed deep into his shoulders. _

"_Richard," she cried out into the air above them. _

_He watched her head loll back and held her in place, feeling her abdomen tighten, his hands roaming all around her body, a small sheen of dew covered her skin and from the tortured look of pleasure-filled pain that covered her face he knew she was just rocked by an orgasm. He snaked his fingers in between her hips and the fabric of her black lace panties, pulling on the flimsy fabric – now damp with her intoxicating sex – down and away, down and away from her body. Once at her feet, he turned her body into his and laid her on the bed. He came to lie next to her, caressing her delicate heart-shaped face, waiting for the pings of her orgasm to pass before he pressed on and moved on and forward. He let his fingertips roam over her curves, gently kissing and nipping her skin as he went – silently thanking God for this chance, this one chance to be with her – for his regret and his inability to trust himself with her pulled strongly on his heart strings as she opened her eyes and found him watching her._

_Richard smiled, pressing his lips together; he leaned in and kissed hers. She sighed into his mouth and raised her leg, pressing her foot flat against the bed. Lips still fused together – she reached down and tugged on the waistband of his boxers – silently offering her further permission …yes, she wanted him too. She leaned up and forward, a small smile covering her face as he knelt on his knees, while helped him. His cock sprang free and she giggled, immediately taking his muscle in her hand, she tugged on him with ownership, bringing him forward and down onto her, nestling his cock between her hip and his abdomen as she kissed him, darting her tongue into his depths over and over and over again._

_And while they kissed, Richard moved his hand further south to the apex of her well-trimmed pussy – longing now to feel her natural inclination for him, evidence of her arousal – on both his fingers and his tongue. He ducked his head down and pressed his lips over her skin, moving down, down until he reached her abdomen where he abruptly stopped. He turned his head and rested his ear over her mound, his fingertips nestled in her vee just above her hooded clit, her leg raised, her pussy, the pure essence of her … ready and waiting._

_So it was there that he felt the first wave of guilt – their intimacy, the action he was about to take, it felt like a betrayal to 'them' and suddenly he felt disjointed, conflicted – God damn it, he wanted to make love to his wife! He. Wanted. Her. And on __all__ accounts – spiritually, physically, mentally, he wanted her – her sweet elixir was ripe for the taking, and yet … the damage was already done … he could no longer love her how she deserved to be loved. Unexpected tears pricked his eyes and everything disappeared inside the moment for a beat. _

_Move on, move on, press on … make love, feel, connect … you love her! She's okay, she's okay! You can do this!_

_The feeling of her hands on his skull brought him out of his tirade. She held him firmly. She brought him back. "Richard," she sighed. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice, quiet … and so small, all of a sudden she sounded so far away. _

"_You," he whispered, his hot breath moving across her mound – she shifted in response, opening her free thigh wider – he looked down and spotted her small dark clit peeking out from within her folds. His cock lengthened. His balls tightened. _

"_So, take me … put your mouth on me," she sighed, opening her thigh yet again, gently giving her orders …and so he did. _

_Without missing a beat, he wordlessly positioned himself in between her thighs – taking a moment to admire the beauty of her essence, her perfect plump pussy – before he gently dipped one finger inside her sticky folds, almost cumming on the spot from the pure need and abundance of her arousal he felt within her. She was wet, more than wet for him. He pulsed his finger in and out of her slippery tight channel – pulse, pulse, pulse – as Adele sighed breathlessly into the air above them. Richard peeked up and found her lips pressed together, her brow knitted in concentration – something she'd always done to suppress her moans of pleasure – something that always bothered him … until now, until he came to appreciate her for __her__ – no, this wasn't just about him and his need to hear her mewls of pleasure – because somehow it was finally about 'them'. _

"_Hmm," he moaned. "You feel so good … so beautiful," he muttered._

_Her hips bucked up and her delicate muscles closed tightly around his finger; her hands flew to his skull – something she rarely did – guiding him, pushing him down, down, down now. Wasting no time, Richard took her signal and leaned forward gently running his fat tongue along the outer perimeter of her folds – damn she tasted so fucking good – just like home, just like home, he muttered to himself now as he pressed his whole mouth over her opening – moaning into her hole, his vibrations echoing now with no place to go – his mouth ready to siphon, his throat ready to drink her down! Adele's hips bucked up again and he took all she had and so much more! _

_Finding her clit, he swirled his tongue around and around and around the perfect little nub, flicking back and forth as he went – taking the small gem in between his lips – keeping it there, sucking on it for a beat before releasing her to the wild once again. Her gasps filled the air and there they stayed – also having no place to go – her tortured cry of his name fell from her lips and it was as if he heard an angel sing._

_He took a moment – giving her pussy and nerves a break, reveling in her beauty now he breathed her sweet essence in, pressing it down through his nostrils savoring it in his lungs– resting his head on her thigh now, he blew on her hot, engorged flesh for a beat longer__. Ready for more,__ he then inserted two of his long surgeon's fingers into her soaked pussy, rotating his hand, palm up before he curled those fingers up and into Adele's flesh. Briskly 'walking' them up and back, deep into her fleshy depths where he found her spot, her G-Spot – the one that made her writhe and wiggle and gasp – the only one she let herself and all of her inhibitions completely go for, the one she came hard and fast for. _

_And then she did just that, only this time she cried out in pleasurable bliss, Richard popped his head up and watched his wife let it all go …_

_He watched her eyes roll back into her head …_

_He watched her cheeks come to life …_

_He watched her arch her back – feeling his raw desire – as her heavy breasts and engorged nipples called to him … ripe for the taking …_

_He watched her drown now as he slowly removed his fingers and pressed his mouth over sweet pussy once more, drinking her down as she clenched her ass cheeks up and proceeded to let him fuck her pussy with his tongue. _

"_I need more … I … I …need," she sighed, unable to finish her thought. Richard smiled, for while Adele was a generous and soulful lover, she was not a vocal lover and he was pleasantly surprised by this change, so much so that he left her pussy in favor of crawling back up her body to seduce her. _

"_What is it, Adele?" he asked, kissing her dewy flesh along her neckline. "What do you need more of?" he persisted with the leading question with a slight smirk as he dipped his head down and latched on to one of her perfectly dark, round nipples, damn she tasted so good. _

_She chuckled breathlessly, but kept her eyes closed. "You," she sighed, reaching down, she surprised him again by pumping her fist up and down his hard and ready cock. "I've missed you," she muttered softly, sighing through her warbled confession. _

"_You want my cock," he teased, making more of a statement than a question, loving the feeling of her tight fingers around his rod. _

_Her eyes flew open. "I do," she agreed, maintaining her strong hold on him. "You're mine," she said with an air of new confidence, a small amount of righteousness seeping through, but he only smiled. _

"_I am," he agreed as he moved to hover over her. He kissed her sweet lips and watched her eyes close. "Eyes open Adele," he requested and she obliged. "Make me yours again," he said softly – his heart trembled now – as he felt her familiar grasp around his cock before she gently eased him into her pussy. _

_Silently welcoming him … inside._

_Silently welcoming him … home. _

"_Hmm, mine," she sighed, opening her thighs to him. Locking her glassy eyes with his, doing her best to maintain their gaze as she swallowed him up – inch by inch by inch – even though he knew her well enough to know that she'd rather look away or close her eyes entirely. _

_She felt tighter to him – familiar and wonderful – but tighter. And as he raised himself up on his forearms; he felt her shift under him, opening her thighs even wider to accept his width, seemingly unwilling to leave any part of him astray. He pulsed slowly – down, down, down – another moan of appreciation fell from Adele's lips. He reached behind her and raised her thigh up and above his hip bone on one side; Adele pressed her heel into his lower back to keep her thigh in place. On the other side, he took Adele's knee and tucked it under his forearm, he felt her pussy lips stretch just enough now to submerse his entire cock within her core. _

"_Oh God, Richard," she sighed breathlessly as he began to pulse his cock in and out of her depths – down, down, down – he went again, his pelvic bone pressing on hers as her juice lubricated their machine. "Harder," she ordered, taking him by surprise once again as she rolled her hips up and back to allow for deeper penetration. _

_Richard pulsed deep and quick now, sensing Adele was close …_

_He so desperately wanted to get her off, to feel her cum and to be held in place by her muscles as she did …_

_He wanted it all, with her …_

_He was finally home …_

_He wanted to explode within her …_

_He wanted to be swallowed up by her for now and forever …_

_Feeling quite certain that he didn't need more than this … _

_That he didn't need more than her …_

"_I'm close," he husked into the damp skin of her neck, never wanting to let go. _

"_Me too," she breathed, her voice catching. "So close," she managed to say, so lost already._

_With that, Richard snaked his hand down and flanked his fingers around her fat, wet clit before he moved them together and let the friction from his pulses rub against her pleasure point until he heard her scream his name and her delicate muscles went to work, milking him, clenching down around him as she made him hers again once and for all! _

_His cock jumped and he released his seed – claiming her, loving her, connecting with her – cherishing the moment, watching her now as he briefly made eye contact with her before her eyes closed with bliss._

_All was quiet then as she clasped her feet around his back and kept him there, holding him there until his cock began to soften. He slipped from her tired hole, all the while he pressed kisses to her neck and shoulders, trying desperately now to hold on to how he was feeling right at this moment, because he never wanted to forget – this choice he made – to return to Adele, to realize this moment where they might begin, where __he__ might be able to begin to start over again._

_###_

_And so the reunited husband and the satisfied wife held each for a long time that afternoon – whispering to one another – sleeping and resting, only to wake up wrapped around one another, finally safe … finally together on the other side of his mistakes. Sometime later, Richard slipped from their nest – he went to the small bar and grabbed a bottle of water and poured a glass of sweet tea for his sexy wife – the air smelled of their sex, it was in every particle he breathed and he loved it. He walked back into the bedroom and melted when he found Adele._

_Right then and there she became … his Adele. She lay on her side, propped up on two ecru covered pillows – her face still swathed in post-coital bliss, her arm draped low around her abdomen, the ecru sheet rested just along her nipples – the swell of her breasts completely visible along with the tip of her right areola – so beautifully dark and perfect against the bright sheet. Lastly … one perfect knee cap – a triangle of deep ebony – peeked out from beneath another small blanket. She was an idol, an angel … she was his Adele. _

_And he was quite certain that in all their years together thus far, he was sure he'd never seen her so at peace … so beautiful, so … true to herself. He saw what he believed was the woman she saved just for him and without even thinking – he grabbed the camera – and snapped a photograph of her._

_###_

Richard held the framed memoir now, never in his life had he cherished something so vehemently. He kept the photo to himself, never even telling Adele he took it. For countless years he kept the photo in his office at the hospital, tucked safely away in his bible – _one that his parents had given him when he was a young boy_ – a gift he knew he would never part with. Every once in a while when things spiraled out of control, he would retrieve the photo and allow himself the luxury of getting lost within the memories of that weekend oh so long ago.

Only when he finally moved in here did he march out and find a frame for the photo – _his hopes for reconciling with Adele, long gone now_ – he had to have something to fall asleep next to, her pillow did not seem to tow the line anymore. _Tears … unwanted tears gathered in his eyes as he fell victim once again to all the mistakes he made._ He ached for Adele. It was true, for years after Ellis left, he missed her – _he missed her vitality, her strength _– but he never ached for her like he did for Adele.

He stood now on shaky legs – _intent to call Adele _– and beg and plead with her to come on this trip, this cruise … to come away with him and try again. _He ached for her … he wanted her._ Holding the frame in both hands for a beat longer now before he placed it once again in its spot and swiftly exited his room, walking down the hallway – _to do what_ – distract himself …mute himself? He had no idea anymore what to do anymore. He passed through the kitchen, bypassing the mess of empty bottles as he entered the dining room and found his men right where he left them – _raucous laughter filling the air, drinks in hand, cards on the table_ – along with a new scattering of beer bottles and mounds of peanut shells.

"Chief, we were about to send a search party out for you," Owen greeted, happily.

"Yeah, what happened, did you almost fall into that bidet the designer made you install?" Mark chuckled, raising his brow.

"No, he put his foot down on that, right?" Derek teased, his face bright until he looked up from his cards and met Richard's gaze. "Richard?" he asked.

_Richard stood there still. He didn't know what to do. It had been a week … a week since he had written an invitation for Adele, inviting her to come over here – to see his place – and to take that trip with him. He was retiring for Christ's sakes … finally, finally, in the true sense of the idea and he wanted a chance to make it right with her – to travel and have fun and take trips – he ached for her …he wanted her, still. _

"Chief, you alright?" George asked; his eyes steady and calm.

"I miss my wife," Richard declared in defeat.

"Call her," George replied, his eyes on his cards again.

"I did. And I invited her to come over here too, whenever she was ready," he answered, his mind racing light years into the future – _long after his eighteen-month jaunt with Shep_ – long after he would leave the confines of Seattle Grace once and for all – _long after, long after_ – to a time when he would still be alone and aching for her.

"Call her again," Derek persisted with encouragement.

"We can call her for you!" Mark offered, flecks of booze found deep within in his eyes.

"Oh yeah!" Alex retorted. "What are you gonna say?" Alex laughed.

"Whhhhazzzuuuuuuup!" Mark howled, his face bright red.

"Whhhhazzzuuuuuuup!" Owen howled, following suit, slapping his hand down.

"You fucking morons," Derek laughed.

"Whhhhazzzuuuuuuup!" Mark howled again just for the hell of it.

"Thanks fellas," Richard said, cracking a wide smile at their antics. "But Adele is a bit mature for a drunk dial, don't you think?" he teased.

"Now that Chief – _see that depends on your idea of 'mature'_ – I mean, look at me here, expecting father, brilliant plastic surgeon … and yet –"

"He still wants to sit at the _'cool table' _at lunch," George interjected, rolling his eyes.

"So what if I do!" Mark countered, both men laughed like devils.

"Chief, just call her, go and call her … be direct," Derek counseled and all was quiet for a beat.

Richard just wanted to know what was on her mind – _as much as she still terrified him_ – he wanted to know, he wanted to know if she thought he was insane, he wanted her to yell and scream if need be – _he just wanted to hear from her on this one thing_ – on this idea of a trip where maybe they could get down to the _'business of them'. _He wanted to know her answer. The sound of Mark's pager vibrating along the table woke him up from this latest round of thoughts. He watched Mark flip the PDA open and smile wide like it was Christmas morning, or something close to it.

"Everything all right?" asked Derek.

"Oh yeah," Mark snickered, typing his reply. "It's Callie," he cackled, looking up. "You're ex-wife is horny!" he called over to George, pressing his palm down on the table.

George laughed. "Are you ever gonna stop with that?" he asked, a smirk covering his face.

"No, I don't think I will," he said gleefully, tossing his cards on the table. "But you might get lucky tonight and win this round too, now that I'm gone," he sparred in fun.

"No – _no he won't_ – he hasn't seen the masterpiece found right here in my hand yet," Alex snickered; poker faces abound all of a sudden as everyone turned to survey the young OB surgeon.

"Sorry to leave fellas, but _it's business time_ and my pregnant girlfriend is finally horny!" he cackled happily as he stood. The men looked up. "Looks like Shep isn't the _only one_ who's gonna get some tonight," he sneered.

"Hey – _it's been four years, four years of marriage_ – we're entitled to a spontaneous staycation," Derek cackled, pointing his finger at his best friend. "There's nothing like some _'business time'_ over at The Archfield, and _I_ know, _you_ know what I mean," he muttered, eying his cards again.

"I do … I do my friend, have fun," he smiled genuinely. "See you boys later," he said, slipping his leather jacket on. Pointing now at the Richard with two fingers. "Call her … just call," he offered seriously.

"I think I will," Richard smiled at his happy – _about-to-get-lucky_ – friend as he walked him to the door.

_He watched Sloan slip down the hallway, secretly hoping he'd be alright to walk home, although he felt comfort in knowing the couple lived too close by for him to have driven over, or even take a cab for that matter. He smiled and closed the door. He collected some of the empty bottles from the table and headed back to the kitchen to put them in the recycling bin. He set the bottles down on the counter and his cell phone rang – jarred – he anxiously looked down to the PDA: Sloan._

"Sloan," Richard said into the line, wondering what he might have forgotten.

"Adele's here, she's on her way up," Mark announced.

"Oh … oh … thanks," Richard replied, his mind whirling like the final spin-cycle … _hot water, heavy soil, fabric softener, double rinse, spin, spin, spin!_

"She looked happy, if that means anything, I mean … her serious scowl … well, she's on her way up …," he rambled on.

"Okay," Richard chuckled. "Oh … Mark … you're walking home right?" he asked, just to make sure.

"I am … that I am," Mark laughed. "See you in the AM," he added and then he was gone.

Richard snapped the phone shut and wandered back into the dining room. "Adele's here," he announced. "Sloan just called … she's here … on her way up," he muttered, not sure what he should do first … practice his speech, yes – _the words, what he wanted to say to her_ – or what he envisioned he would say to her.

"Shit," Derek shook his head. "Look at this place," he muttered, pushing his chair back from the table.

Preoccupied now, Richard stood by and watched as George, Owen and Alex followed Derek's lead, each man making a hasty attempt to clear away some the mess.

"Leave it fellas," he said after a beat, his voice calm and even despite his raging heart.

"Let me pack up what's left of the contraband," Derek offered with a chuckle, locking his eyes with Richard's for a beat.

"Thanks Shep," he replied with appreciation, for his dear friend knew that even though he had smothered his craving for the poison a long time ago, he still didn't like to have it in the house. He'd sleep better tonight knowing the _'liquor cabinet'_ was bare.

Derek disappeared into the kitchen while the remaining men tidied up a bit more before tossing their jackets on. The doorbell rang and only then did all of the players freeze. Richard made eye contact with George who raised a brow and smiled with encouragement – _one previously married man to another now_ – as he made his way to the front door. He rested his hand on the ornate doorknob and steadied himself for a beat before he opened the door and sighed at the sight of his wife of twenty-five years – _his ex-wife for almost six _– and marveled once again at her radiant beauty. She sighed and smiled, cocking her head slightly as she did.

"Did Mark Sloan announce my arrival?" she asked _– a playful hint laced in her voice_ – her strong features softened.

"He did, come in," Richard replied. "Let me take your coat," he murmured, coming to stand behind her, he slipped her black tailor-made lamb's wool coat from her shoulders, holding the garment in his hands. She turned to face him – _wearing pretty standard 'Adele' garb_ – black pinstripe suit with a short jacket, simple ecru blouse, a small lavender silk scarf hung loose around her neck, she was a vision.

"Gentlemen," Adele greeted, smiling curtly.

"Adele," they muttered in unison – _smiles plastered to their plastered faces now_ – having each been scolded at one time or another over the years for addressing her as _'Mrs. Webber'_.

The men moved in formation now to the coat closet, George took his coat from the hanger, slipped it on and came to take Adele's coat from Richard. He hung it up with efficiency and turned to find Richard, standing there still … his eyes on Adele. Richard smiled, chuckling now as the men began a makeshift receiving line of sorts, first shaking his hand and then Adele's. Within a minute or two they were gone. All was quiet then for a beat before Derek entered the room – _leather bomber_ _jacket already on, bag of 'contraband' clinking softly in hand_ – smiling now as he spotted Adele, he crossed the room to greet her properly.

"Hi there," he said, his voice even, chipper.

"Derek," she sighed with a smile. "How are the babies? Meredith?" she cooed thoughtfully.

"Healthy, happy," he answered, pressing a warm hand to her shoulder. He leaned in and pecked her round cheek with a small kiss.

"That's nice to hear," she said softly, passing a quick glance at Richard. "Your mother called …s she's come into town?" she inquired with interest.

"She is … she's watching the tots for a couple of days – _Meredith and I are staying at The Archfield_ – we're meeting there tonight actually, just to … get away, just the two of us," Derek offered with a bright smile.

"Ah," she smiled. "Good for you – _spend some time together_ – away from work, _away_ from the hospital," she preached, steeling a glance at Richard for a beat. He could only smile with acknowledgment.

Derek turned his attention back to his friend. "Thanks Richard," he said, holding his free hand out.

The men shook hands, taking a couple of steps toward the door. Adele followed and smiled when Derek pulled her into a hug for a beat. "Go easy on him," he chuckled softly and so did she with a roll to her eyes.

_With that, he slipped into the hallway and closed the door behind him. And then there were two. _

"Adele," Richard sighed, turning to find her with his eyes. "Thanks for … coming," he said softly, stepping closer.

"This is a lovely space," she offered, her eyes roaming around her ex-husband's well-decorated bachelor pad. "Simple elegance," she muttered.

"It's alright," he replied, watching her take in the soothing earth tones, travertine marble floors, deep brown leather couches, sleek lines, glass top tables, seamless flood lights and built-in high-tech electronics. It suited him.

"Hmm … may I have a glass of tea?" she asked, keeping her eyes trained on the view of the darkened skyline.

"Sure … come this way," he replied, placing his hand at the small of her back, they bypassed the card table and made their way through the dining room to the kitchen.

"Wow Richard," Adele sighed. "What do you plan to do with a kitchen like this … learn to cook?" she teased with a raised brow.

Richard chuckled, grabbing two pilsner style glasses; he filled them with ice cubes, pouring the tea over top. "That depends …," he mused, handing Adele one of the glasses.

"On?" she inquired, holding her glass up to his where they gently clinked.

"On whether I have some company or not …," he smiled, mischief in his eyes now.

Richard watched her eyes gaze around the space for a beat longer – _turning slightly to get the full affect_ – before she halted and whipped her head back to him. "Doesn't this building recycle?" she asked; her alarm evident.

"Yes," he chuckled, turning to move the multitude of glass beer bottles to the recycling bin. Surprisingly, Adele came to stand next to him, bringing with her a handful of empty bottles; the pair finished the mundane task together.

"Thanks," Richard said.

_He turned to the sink and washed his hands, leaving the water running for Adele, except she hadn't moved from her spot. She stood still for a beat – an empty bottle of scotch in her hands – she gripped the glass and held it over the bin, suspended in time, or something. Richard turned the faucet off and came to stand next to her. He kept his eyes on the bottle and so did she. _

"What is it that you want, Richard," she asked so softly, barely above a whisper, his heart went nuts.

"You," he answered in that same tone, his heart rising, lodged somewhere in his neck for sure.

"Just me?" she asked, releasing one hand from the bottle.

"Just you … just you and this … trip," he answered, his heart beating in his throat now.

"This _'business trip' _…," she mused with a small smile.

"Yes," he answered. "It's time," he whispered.

"Yes," she whispered. "I think so too …," she sighed breathlessly. "It's time," she agreed, leaning closer now. "_It's business time,"_ she said softly, before she gently lay the bottle inside the recycling bin and turned into his welcome embrace.

**Business Time – Part 2 – Mark Sloan to follow.**


	2. Business Time, Mark Sloan

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, et al. **

**Author's Note: So Jules … you would love Sheila … really, you would … and thanks for reminding me it's Wed. … I suppose I will post on Wednesdays here too. Also, thank you to ****merderluvr**** and ****Saturnina Black**** for being kind enough to leave a comment (and for, you know, sticking with me despite the Richard/Adele sussy flashback), it means a lot!**

**I hope you really enjoy this part, I always loved the Mark/Callie pairing, it is also true (IMO) that ED acts best when he's opposite SR … I think she skillfully brings out something sexy and a little more mature in the actor who always seems to be a bit "wooden" to me. ENJOY!**

**Business Time – Part 2 – Mark Sloan**

Mark Sloan zipped his leather bomber jacket up in defense against the damp nighttime air –_relentless heavy, wet particles of the mist infiltrated the barrier_ – he shrugged his shoulders up in further defense. A fine layer of dew covered his handsome face like a mosquito net, damn it – _almost seven years_ – he had lived in Seattle for almost seven years and he still wasn't used accustomed to the abundance of water, rain, heavy fog, cold mist, the smell of the salty organic bay … the rain, his bones should be porous by now.

He turned the corner and navigated his way down the empty streets, just two more turns and he would be home. Yes … the rain and its natural vacuum, humming vibration seemed to have become the soundtrack for the defining moments in his life as of late – _it often kept him up at night, or washed away the debris of a bad day, the loss of life … cleansing him, protecting him, but mostly, it kept him up at night_ – well, for at least the last couple of months anyway when it seemed to transport him back to the not-so-distant past, back to a night when things became more intense between he and Callie … that night when he would come to admit (_to more than just himself_) the full extent of his burgeoning devotion to this woman.

###

_It was pouring outside – coming down in sheets, hail, cold, harsh and unforgiving, the storm of the storm – and not even the dry warmth of his bed linens and the haphazard beat of said storm would lull Mark Sloan to sleep. Because something was missing … rather, __someone__ was missing. There was a lull in the powerful beats from the rain for a moment – splattering lightly now against the large expansive windows like the string section of the orchestra – he closed his eyes and rolled over, waiting for the softer sound to take him away to that dark place called sleep. But the wind changed instead and tossed large buckets of water along the barrier – he sighed in frustration – no, sleep would not come easily tonight. _

_The wind changed directions and so did Mark; he rolled over, resting his cheek against the cool fabric of his pillow. Taking advantage of the lull, he closed his eyes on the misty sky in front of him – and there she was – Callie … the image of his – girl-lover-best friend-woman-better half – popped in his head again and there again he tried to fight her. He opened his eyes, heart racing, rolling over again now, he stared at the ceiling for answers – answers he had already found but didn't know how to come to terms with – thunder rumbled, sparring him with his quandary. He rolled over again, hugging his pillow for comfort, closing his eyes … only to find her right where he left her – etched in his mind's eye – just as she had been for weeks now. _

_Shrouded in a bright fluorescent halo of OR lights …_

_Surgical cap tight around her skull, framing her heart-shaped face, somehow taming her wild, dark tresses …_

_Surgical mask, camouflaging her flawless complexion, beyond beautiful smile and perfectly plump lips …_

_Full set of scrubs and surgical gowns – a perfunctory sea of blue and white – shielding and concealing her vivacious curves …_

_And last but not least… _

_Her eyes … her stunning eyes – deep, reflective pools of brilliance, always shining, always dark, all-seeing and sparkling – yes … one look into her eyes and Mark was a goner … _

_Because all he really needed was one moment in her eyes to know that his feelings for her had grown into … something else, something substantial. And it was on that admission that Mark effectively woke up and opened his eyes – yes, he was awake and missing Callie in his bed – coming to terms with, yet again, another admission: he hated the nights when she was on-call without him. With this last thought running a circuit in his head, Mark sat upright and found the glowing infra-red light of the clock – 1:24 AM – the rain rushed against the windows still, no sign of letting up. The hour was of no consequence now, for it was too early to go to the hospital, yet too late to try for some real, meaningful sleep. And then he had an idea._

_Callie, Callie, Callie_

_Hopefully she wasn't busy and if she wasn't, maybe he could slip into bed with her for the last couple hours of her shift. He smiled at the thought, knowing a couple of hours of sleep wrapped up in her warmth would be tantamount of a whole night's sleep. With a rush of something – relief, excitement, happiness – Mark tossed the covers back and rushed to get himself together. _

_###_

_A mere ten minutes later, the sleepless man stepped out from under the awning of his apartment building and into the rain, making a mad dash for the hospital – the tall building, a beacon of hope, shrouded in hazy fluorescent lights – calling to all, a safe haven for weary souls. Within minutes, he rushed through the automatic doors and into the deserted lobby – he took one big breath of the clinical, recycled air – and felt as though he was already home. Now all he needed was Callie. He ran his fingers along his soaked scalp and slipped inside a waiting elevator. He exited the on the fourth floor and headed to the OR Board and scanned it._

_Torres, Torres, Torres_

_A satisfied smile spread across his face as he turned around. _

"_She's down there," Nurse Tyler offered from his spot at the Nurses' Station, a hint of knowing mischief in his eyes. Mark cocked his head. "Dr. Torres," he smiled. "On-call room, second on the right," he said with a raised brow._

"_Right, thanks," Mark said with a smile of recognition as he turned away._

_A smile – one of mutual understanding – because although he and Callie had been 'together' for years (albeit completely undefined and certainly without rules), neither one entertained the idea of perusing another lover. For it seemed Mark's natural predisposition for bachelorhood was a scapegoat for both of them, for she understood him and his inability to commit and that same inability eventually became a safety net for her – so vulnerable and gun shy of relationships after her failed marriage with George – which left them where they were – uniquely 'together' – except that somehow they evolved and became naturally exclusive to one another._

_He stood outside the on-call room now, his fingers around the door handle. What were they? He dared to ask himself again, pausing for a beat, he decided they were undefined – and without another cohesive thought – Mark turned the handle and slipped inside the dark room. He sighed at the sight of her sleeping form on the bottom bunk; top bunk, thankfully empty. He locked the door, silence filled the room and then he heard her._

_Sniffles. She was crying about something. _

"_Cal," he whispered, approaching the bed. He slipped his jacket off followed by his shoes. _

"_Mark," she breathed – her voice, muted, nasally and thick – she rolled over to find his eyes in the dark. She raised the flimsy sheet, inviting him in. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed. _

"_Couldn't sleep," he answered, slipping into the meager bed with her – locking his eyes with hers for a beat – checking her over until she escaped from his gaze. The bed creaked under their weight. She instinctually rolled into him and he into her. Warmth. "My turn," he sighed, relaxing into her heat. "Why the tears?" he asked._

"_You came here because you couldn't sleep?" her voice trembled. She ignored his question._

"_I did, I came over here to sleep with you … ah, __next__ to you … just to sleep … with you," he uncharacteristically rambled with a nervous chuckle, trying to soothe them both. _

"_Just to sleep?" she asked softly, raising herself up, she eyed him carefully. He chuckled, moving her hair away from her face._

"_Yes," he confessed. "Now tell me why you're a leaky faucet," he ordered gently. _

"_Okay, but it's scary," she sighed heavily. "I can … tell you something scary, right Mark?" she asked, looking away from his shadowed face._

"_Anything," he answered without missing a beat, moving her chin up. He found her worried eyes in the dark._

"_Are you sure?" she asked, her voice rising already, her self-doubt, evident. "'Cause this is really scary, Mark," she sighed heavily. "I mean – so scary – life-altering scary! No matter what happens, no …matter … what," she breathed, trying to calm herself down, tears collected in her eyes. _

"_Hey," he said, trying to get her to look at him. "Spill it Torres," he laughed. "You're really starting to scare me," he chuckled. She took a deep breath. _

"_Well good, join the club … because … I'm pregnant," she breathed, trying to escape his gaze while he tried desperately to read her mind. _

"_You're right," he said, inching further into her warmth, trying to hold her in an effort to ground himself. "That's pretty damn scary," he agreed, his voice shaking, his mind moving a mile a minute – 'she's pregnant, she's pregnant' – he held on tighter still. _

"_Yeah," she muttered, resting her cheek along his chest. His arm around her back; his grip, confident and firm. _

"_Yeah," he repeated, staring at the underside of the bunk bed – 'she's pregnant, she's pregnant' – he chanted, moving his hand up and down her back._

"_So …," she sighed._

"_So …," he sighed, his voice level and calm. He was always calm in a crises – was this even a crises – he wondered quickly. "Do you wanna know the real reason I came over here tonight?" he found himself asking instead._

"_Okay …," she replied, draping her leg over his thighs. _

"_I missed you," he confessed into the darkness – 'she's pregnant, she's pregnant' – his thoughts swirled again. _

"_You missed me?" she asked incredulously, perching her chin on his chest now, she found his glassy eyes._

"_I did …I couldn't sleep without you," he said, moving his hands through her messy hair. "And I was scared to admit that to anyone but myself … until …," his voice trailed off as he got lost in the deep, dark pools of her eyes. _

"_Something changed …," she breathed (because something did). _

"_Well … you shared your scary thing with me, I had to share mine with you," he smiled, reaching for her. She leaned up and kissed him – tiny pulses – kiss, kiss, kiss, they were okay._

"_Are you still scared?" she asked, resting her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder now. _

"_Not as much … no … and you?" he asked, pressing a kiss into her thick, dark hair. _

"_Not as much …no … we can sleep on it," she said softly, burrowing deeper into him. _

"_Sleep," he sighed. _

"_Sleep," she agreed, becoming heavier in his arms. "We can be scared together," she offered. _

"_Scared together sounds perfect," he said, feeling better and more complete than he had in a long time. "Perfectly … 'us'," he chuckled, closing his eyes. _

"_Perfectly ... 'us'," Callie sighed in agreement and then all was quiet. _

_###_

'_Us, us, us …us, us, us'_

Mark thought as he walked through the double doors to the apartment building – _the hospital lights glowing in the background_ – the place of their work, their savior and so much more … for it was their skyline, their backdrop for _their_ life now that Callie had officially moved in with him. Stepping straight into an open elevator, he unzipped his jacket – _creeping heat already smothering him after his brisk walk of determination in the cold_ – his skin pricked with heat, mostly in pure anticipation of the night to come. For it had been a long six weeks, for the both of them – _Callie often expressing her frustration in being sexually frustrated_ – and of course her metamorphosis into _'this cliché of a pregnant woman' _she couldn't stand bothered her too.

He exited the elevator and walked along the familiar corridor – _almost home, home sweet home, home is where the heart is_ – almost home, he chanted silently with appreciation. Unlocking the door, he stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him. His eyes scanned the darkened room; only a small table lamp illuminated the space.

"Honey, I'm home," he called out, chuckling at his own lame joke.

Mark put his keys down on the table and slipped his jacket and shoes off, leaving them there. He read a small message on a post-it note in Callie's recognizable scroll – _'Recycling on Thursday'_ – reminding him, yet again of the change in the building's recycling procedures. He chuckled and raised his forearm up, inhaling a deep breath of air – _his sweater smelled like cigars and old beer_ – a sure fire turn off for _'pregnant Callie'_. He'd have to shower and with that thought he clicked the light off and made his way to find his pregnant and horny girlfriend. He padded down the hallway, following the path of dim light coming from the bedroom and smiled when he saw her – _his woman, the mother of his child, his lover_ – his … _'sleeping beauty'!_

He sighed and flipped the switch off, dim nighttime light cascaded across her beautifully relaxed face. Her complexion, rosy, her full, kissable lips, a perfect pouty heart … her arm draped low along her belly –_a protective stance for their love-baby –_ her fingers disappearing just underneath her lavender tank top, the gray silk sheet, draped over her lace-covered hip bone. She was a vision of peace and Mark melted a little bit at this rare look at her sleeping form – _and in that moment it was enough for him to __see__ she was feeling better and he wouldn't have woken her up for anything … not even sex_ – he sighed and swiftly grabbed a fresh pair of boxers before he headed to take that proverbial cold shower.

The shower came to life; Mark stripped his soiled clothing off, leaving it in a heap near the door. He brushed his teeth, steam clouded the small space and he slowly disappeared within the mirror in front of him. He bent down, rinsed his mouth and stepped into the scalding hot shower, taking a minute to lather both his hair and body before leaning back into the spray to wash away the debris _– the smoke and booze and foul language and raucous laughter_ – the diminutive gentlemen's evening gone now, the perfunctory wash had effectively sobered him up. He turned the water off, grabbed a gray terrycloth towel from the rack above the tub and quickly dried his body while stepping from the tub. The cold air attacked his skin; he hung the towel on the hook behind the door, slipped his fresh boxers on, clicked the light off and stepped into the even cooler air of their bedroom. He walked around the bed to _'his side'_ and carefully slipped in between the sheets. He inched behind Callie, spooning her – _his hand instinctually fell to her belly before he felt her push back and into him_ – burrowing deeper. She sighed in her sleep. He kissed her bare shoulder and closed his eyes.

###

_Through the darkness of sleep, Mark felt that all too familiar stirring in his groin – his response was to wake up – but then he stopped himself because somewhere in his subconscious, he let go off that brainless idea in favor of staying right where he was – aroused and happy and dreaming of naked, horny Callie – who would want to wake up? Who could blame him? They hadn't been intimate in weeks and it was secretly killing him – he was a man with needs and he would take what he could get, even if it wasn't real – even if it was only a dream … conditions were perfect!_

"_Mark, let me wake you up …," came Callie's husky voice. _

_Oh yeah, wake me up baby, conditions are perfect!_

_He felt Callie's luscious lips tugging at his earlobe, her hot breath fanning his neck –in and out – her long tresses covering his neck like a net, he was caught … her hands on either side of his head, her breasts cutting across his chest, the warmth of 'her' was everywhere. The sensation of 'her' moved lower, her lips on his abdomen – the unadulterated heat of her core – straddled his thigh and it felt sinfully hot and delicious._

"_Mark," he heard her groan in frustration – his cock twitched – the trigger-sound of her moan of his name from her lips could do that._

_Oh yeah, it's business time, time for business!_

_Mark felt the sensation of her wet nips and kisses as she trailed a sinuous pathway down from his neck and shoulders, lower and lower, stopping briefly to pluck and suck on his tiny trillion nipples with her talented tongue and lips – flick, flick, flick – she went, relentless now in her endeavor._

"_Hmm," came her soft moan – the heat of her breath – infiltrating his racing mind now, making it real. _

_Ahh yeah that's it, __right there baby, oh yeah … right there …right there!_

Jarred awake, Mark's hands found her skull and he opened his eyes to find the scene in front of him not completely unlike his dream. And in that moment his cock woke up and so did he, taking in the vision before him – _it was Callie, in the flesh, flesh and blood and bones_ – not the dream of her … but _her_ …this woman that had become his everything … _his Callie …_

_His Callie_ … and the reality of her still straddled his thigh – _her core warm and wet_ – her hands on his clavicle, her perfect bare ass rising higher in the air, her hot skin covering him everywhere, cloaking him like a blanket of want and need – _no, this __was__ unlike his dream_ – for this was his reality and it was beautiful. His cock twitched – _his boxers tented, rising with his muscle now_ – her perfect nipples cut across the solid wall of his chest as her lips fell to his abdomen and her fingers slipped under the waistband of his boxers.

"Cal," he called for her, his voice stacked, his breathing irregular, more worked-up than he expected.

"You let me sleep," she muttered, looking up to him from her station. She smiled wickedly.

"I did," he sighed, reaching for her, weaving his fingertips through her hair.

"I wanted you – _I want you_ – and you let me sleep!" she accused, her tone light and playful.

She pouted with mischief in her eyes now, dipping her fingers below his waistband, she pulled the fabric down, an inch, maybe two.

"You meant business," he stated gruffly, reaching for her again, pulling on her locks. He wanted her up there with him.

"I did," she kissed his navel, her hot breath scorching his skin. "I _do_," she amended, slipping the fabric down another inch, the flesh of his nerve center visible now. "It's business time," she whispered thickly, kissing his sensitive head before she pulled his boxers down, releasing his cock into her capable hands. She giggled with delight. "Do you want me?" she asked, batting her long lashes playfully, fire in her eyes now as she ran her tongue up and down his length – _base to tip, tip to base_ – already lost in his essence. Mark's eyes closed on their own accord.

"Yes …," was all he could say, smartass remarks eluded him as his hips jerked up to meet the hot flesh of her mouth.

"Good," she replied before she took him fully into her mouth.

_And as she worked him, up and down, lubricating his shaft, licking, sucking and swirling her beautiful tongue, Mark realized that while – her ferocious need and want of him was still evident – her mood and tempo seemed to be slower. His cock twitched – more, more, more – her lips pulsed around his shaft, holding him in place now as her fingers gently massaged his sack._

_Callie lubricated him once more, focusing all of her attention on his head, moaning into his hole as she went, before she slipped her whole mouth over him and allowed him to systematically pulse up and into her depths while his heart rate went nuts with anticipation, orgasmic highs waited just around the next… pump … pulse … lick … flick … swirl … and siphon of her gorgeous mouth!_

_Damn, her mouth on him never felt this good, she never looked sexier either – with her eyes locked on his, her beautiful round ass wiggling in the air – she was hot and turned on and ready and he wanted her pussy, it was as simple as that!_

_Mark decided to allow her another minute of free play, but he wasn't going to give in – not that easily – not after the dry spell they just had … sure he needed her – he wanted her, he always wanted her – but he also wanted to take his time tonight – and so did she apparently – having slowed her siphoning pulses to a more sporadic beat, he could tell she craved longevity just like he did._

_Waiting now to feel her rhythm, he held her skull in place with his hands as he gently forced his cock deeper into the warm caverns of her mouth and throat – deeper, deeper, slower, slower – it was all he ever wanted or needed. Except he really wanted more … he wanted her pussy – the taste of her sex on his tongue, the feeling of her muscles covering his rod – yes, he wanted more, more of her, more of them … oh so much more!_

"Cal," he muttered into the thick night air, he opened his eyes; she was lost, too far-gone to hear him. He leaned forward and tugged on her shoulders – _she stopped mid-stroke and pulled her mouth from his flesh_ – her hands remained around the base of his swollen rod. "Come to daddy," he husked; a wry grin covered his face.

_Her giggle filled the air and she smiled for beat, her hot breath slamming into his muscle, teasing him now without even trying. She ignored his request and leaned down and over his cock instead, her ass perched high the air and all of a sudden her unique sexual essence was the air he breathed. She took him into her mouth one last time – savoring him, making it last, taking her time, one last taste, one last lick – making slow, ferocious love to his cock as if it were the last time she would feast on his flesh … for he was her king and she … she was his queen. _

_His balls tightened, constricting against his will … _

_His ass cheeks clenched, pumping up without his consent …_

_His hips rose off the bed, fucking her mouth, oh she felt so fucking good … _

_His heart rate went wild, he was about to blow, but he wouldn't have it, he wanted control … _

_And in a furious attempt to make it last, he somehow sat upright, pulled her amazing mouth from his cock and pinned her beneath him. _

"You want me," he reminded her, his voice shaky – _their breathing ragged_ – his wet hard cock nestled between his groin and hers. Moving her matted hair away from her flushed face, he stared down at her now, his heart pinched in his chest somewhere and he was quite certain he never wanted her as much as he did right at that moment.

"I do," she said breathlessly into the heat between them. She maintained her hold on his gaze, pulled his neck forward and closed the small distance between them, kissing him with her mouth, they moaned in unison.

_Finally face to face …_

_Hungry lips feeding lips … _

_Body heat fueling body heat …_

_Wild eyes matching wild eyes …_

_Heaving chest to heaving chest …_

_Feet and legs tangled together …_

_Their perfect anatomical fit still evident … ready cock lined up to pulse into ready pussy …_

Mark smiled and kissed her perfect lips – _pumping once, twice_ – before he felt her mouth open to him with a gentle ferocity he hadn't felt before. She raised the knee of her free leg, Mark's hands roamed the familiar curves of her body – _his fingertips dancing along her fuller, more sensitive breasts_ – her nipples as ripe and as large as raspberries. He pulled his mouth from hers and ducked down, gently taking the tasty flesh in his mouth. Her hands found his skull and she moaned into the air above them as he massaged her peaks with his tongue, taking care not to over-stimulate her nerves there.

"Mark," he heard her groan. His cock lengthened at the sound of his name falling from her lips.

Maintaining his oral hold on one nipple, he stealthily moved his free hand along the soft skin of her abdomen, stopping briefly to connect with their love-baby – _heat to heat_ – before he slipped his fingers through her mound to his prize. He found her swollen clit with ease, bypassing the temptation to play with the fleshy nub in favor of feeling her walls around his fingers.

Skillfully, he slipped two of his long surgeon's fingers into her hot, soaking wet depths _– her pussy was drenched_ – drenched with raw need and want for him and six-week sabbatical aside, she'd never wanted him more, he knew that much. His mouth watered, her sex intoxicated him – _the spell was cast, the net was too … and he was caught_ – all points of fact, all created an animalistic desire to taste her. Without another thought, Mark released her nipple and trailed his tongue down her middle, moving between her legs – _taking a moment to marvel at her beautiful essence, her pussy, the woman of her_ – resting his head on her thigh now, he slipped two fingers into her depths. He watched and felt her muscles constrict and react; her beautiful folds pulsed and swallowed his fingers whole.

He began to pulse his fingers against her flesh for a beat before he leaned down and captured her tasty clit in between his lips, swirling it around and around and around with his tongue, all the while lost in her warm sex and the call of his name over and over, her voice raspy, laden with pleasure-filled pain. Her hands flanked his skull like a vise and she kept him there – _right where she wanted him to be_ – doing her best to wield control over the placement and strokes of his fat tongue along her folds and deep pussy and clit.

_He feasted …_

… _and she let him._

_For he had been deprived of this pleasure …_

… _and so had she. _

"Mark," she called out once again, her voice strained, beautiful. "So close," she muttered, her whole body trembling.

_Mark pulled his fingers from her depths and replaced them with his siphon-mouth – he covered her whole opening with his now – lost within her flesh, his tongue deep and stiff – pulsing deeper and deeper inside for a beat, anything to get her off now, before he pulled back and focused on her swollen nub with his mouth and thumb – flick, flick, flick, rub, rub, rub, swirl, swirl, swirl …nip … bite – and with that last ministration her hips flew off the bed, his tongue and fingers held in place by her delicate clenching muscles now as she cried out in appreciation. _

"Oh God, yes, yes!" came her singsong voice.

Mark kept his mouth on her, drinking down the fruits of his labors, allowing Callie to come down from her blissful high while he breathed her in – _French kissing her pussy_ – skillfully swirling his tongue around and around her tired, swollen flesh until he heard her voice.

"I need you," she declared. "Inside me," she elaborated in a harsh whisper.

He kissed her fleshy depths one more time before he raised his head – _his eyes traveling up, up, up_ – where he spied her rosy flushed cheeks, the layer of hazy dew that lay along her aroused breasts and sex-ripened nipples, her hands above her head in submission. Mark sighed at her natural beauty and took his time moving his lips up to her heart-shaped face where he kissed her lips, plucking them _once, twice_. Callie's eyes opened and they connected in the dark.

"I need you too," he said, face to face with honesty, because it was true – _he needed her, he didn't just want her, he'd fallen hard for her_ – and in that moment, he tenaciously fought the rising crescendo of emotions he hadn't expected.

_He smiled weakly; her hand cupped his face, neither one moved for a beat. _

Pushing himself up, he knelt in front of her. Callie's hands found his cock and she pumped his rod up and down as he leaned forward and pushed his fat, ready muscle against her hole. He lowered his body over hers, she opened her thighs wide to accept him – _and she did just that, taking all of him, inch by inch_ – until their pelvises touched and they were joined in perfect harmony.

"Cal," he husked into her mouth, his tongue dipping into her mouth like his cock into her pussy.

"Hmm, so good," she replied, clenching down around him with her muscles, holding him, keeping him.

_Mark picked up the pace, pulsing, pulsing, pulsing, there was no end to the deliciousness of her muscles wrapped around his cock – her arousal, her juice everywhere, their sex permeated the air – as he gently pounded into her and she accepted him without holding back – fitting around him like a hand-tailored glove – flesh on flesh, nerve against nerve … they went together – there was no question, no quandary – no one else for either of them. _

"Slow," he muttered, his heart pounding against his chest cavity, his eyes closed, completely lost within her.

"Slow," she repeated, grasping for his shoulders then moving to his face where she held him steady and found his eyes. "Slow," she repeated again and he obliged, nose to nose now as he pumped into her endless depths.

_They kissed then, slowly making sweet love to one another like never before – nothing but their love-baby between them – both savoring their reunion and this new level of 'them' now as she rocked her hips up and back and took all he had and so much more … slow and easy, easy and slow. Mark pulsed down, down, down for several beats more ducking his head down to feast on her beautifully puckered nipples while he reached back and pulled her knee up, pushing it under his forearm to raise her hips up and back, a position offering the deeper penetration they both craved. _

_With his rod long and deep now, Callie snaked her hand down and gently massaged his sack, applying pressure to his sex, testing his readiness, his sack warm and almost ready to pop! She moved her hand away while Mark hovered over her for a beat – as he pressed tiny strikes into her pussy now with just his fat, sensitive head – her pussy grasping for his cock with tenacity on every downward pulse._

_He looked down and found Callie watching his cock disappear into her depths, playing with her clit, her fingers moving rapidly – swirl, flick, swirl – smothering her nub now as she found his watchful eyes before he lowered himself deeper into her once more, pushing his pelvic muscles against hers, adding the desired pressure to her mound and clit, she raised her hips up and back, strike, strike, strike! _

_Mark felt his blood literally boil, his head went cloudy, sound mind and body comingled and created a hazy fog of lust and love as Callie's muscles systematically clenched around him now as he dropped lower – skin against skin – her lips and tongue meeting his once again in a slow, yet furious attempt to get one another off, to 'come' together, to mate, to own … to connect._

"Mark," came her desperate call. "Deep," she ordered.

_He wasted no time and slammed into her one last time, and as he did, his sack ricocheted against her perineum, thereby releasing his hot seed with a force and energy he never felt before. Callie rocked her hips up and back and back and up in an effort to deepen the penetration of his twitching cock, creating pressure against her clit as they both tried to desperately hold onto that blissful orgasmic high. Their breathing labored, her muscles still pulsing, working, milking him where she kept him, savored him, held him inside of her with the intent of never letting go … and that was just fine by him. _

_And in those first moments where they became one to each other …_

_The essence of 'them' became the air they breathed … _

_Wild heartbeats slowed down …_

_Glassy eyes became focused …_

_Erratic breathing became regular …_

_Tensed muscles relaxed …_

_And when Mark finally slipped from Callie's hold everything changed … because cognitively their souls remained connected … and it was a beautiful thing. _

###

Callie spoke first and Mark held on tight, still wrapped around her – _his lover, somehow his everything_ – his mind, utterly foggy with a heavy range of emotions swirling around through the haze.

"When did we start doing _that_?" she breathed into their damp heat.

"What?" he asked. _Which part of 'that' was she talking about?_

Mark kissed her shoulder, shifting slightly over her, although still unwilling to let go. He reached down and pulled the gray silk sheet up to their hips.

"Slowing down, taking our time," she whispered; her voice raspy and low.

"We've evolved," Mark answered, draping his thigh over hers. He kissed her temple.

"We have," Callie agreed, leaning into his sweat-soaked abdomen.

"We're …," he said, losing his words as he dipped his head down and plucked her nipple – _it was taunting him, begging for attention _– he just had to latch on. She giggled.

"Us …," she breathed through her chosen word.

"Us …," he agreed, his mouth closing over her whole nipple now, breathing her in, her hands in his hair.

"Hmm …," she hummed, rolling further into him as she moved his skull up and brought his lips and tongue up to hers where they kissed for a beat before he rested his head on the pillow right next to hers.

_He closed his eyes, moving his hand down, he placed it low along her abdomen – heat to heat again – connecting with their love-baby once more, 'I love you, I love you', he found himself telepathing. Callie's hand went there too and they melted into one another and became real to each other, yet again. _

"I love you, Callie – _I mean_ – I'm _in love_ with you," he sighed, emotion clogged deep in his throat. He raised himself up on his elbow and found her wide glassy eyes, although bright and happy too. He kept his free hand on her belly. "And this baby …," he smiled weakly.

"Mark," she sighed, doing her best not to look away.

"I am, Cal – _I am_ – please don't fight me on this, things have changed … for me," he confessed, lost within her deep gateways. He shook his head. "I know … _I know_ how you feel about marriage … but …," he sighed, knowing she had lost her faith in the sanctity of it all (_she made that quite clear after he asked her to marry him once before_) … except that since then, he found himself wishing she would reconsider.

"But …," she sighed, finding his eyes and really looking at him. "Things _have_ changed," she elaborated.

"They have … for you too …," he said hesitantly. "I felt that tonight," he added.

"And it's not just about us and the _taking our time thing_," she said firmly, moving her hand up to the angle of his cheek. It's how I _feel_ about us … _'us'_," she breathed, shaking her head with wonder.

"How do you feel?" he asked, dipping his head down, he pressed a chaste kiss to her swollen lips.

"Like I won the lottery," she smiled, big and bright as tiny tears popped from her eyes.

"Me too," he said softly, resting his head down again, pressing kisses to her shoulder and neck and earlobe before he relaxed for a beat. He closed his eyes, finally right where he should be.

"Mark …," Callie sighed. "Somehow … somehow I fell in love with you too," she confessed.

_Mark raised himself up once again and stared down at his lover in amazement. He leaned down and kissed her before he pulled back and focused on her pupils for a beat. He smiled. She loved him, he could tell – she was sure, so sure she would never turn back – he shook his head as she smiled brilliantly in the dark. Now was the time, it was time for business … propositions. _

"Can I ask you again?" he asked, his heart racing. "Make this idea of _'us'_ even scarier?" he teased.

"Yes," she said, cocking her head against the pillow, her smile still wide and confident.

"And will _'yes'_ be your answer?" he asked sheepishly. She slapped his forearm, tears gathered.

"Yes," she relented with a wry grin.

He rolled over and opened his bedside table and pulled a small black velvet box from within. He smiled brilliantly as he watched her face falter with confusion … no, he didn't have one of _these_ last time he did this. He placed the box in the palm of her hand. She sat up, leaning against the headboard.

"It's a box …," she stuttered, looking down. "You bought a box … it's _the_ box," she rambled nervously.

"It is …," he said, coming to sit Indian style in front of her. Full of truth and honesty, naked as the day he was born. He opened the box for her and removed the simple, yet flawlessly elegant diamond ring.

"Oh Lord, Mark …," she sighed.

_He smiled, shit, he knew she could take or leave jewels – he knew that – but this ring … when he saw it … well, it was truly a spectacle of simple beauty just like her. It was now or never … and Mark chose now without looking back._

"Calliope Euphegenia Torres," he sighed, having long ago perfected the pronunciation of her name. "Will you marry me and raise this baby with me … I promise … Cal …," he muttered, watching her tough exterior crumble. "To really, truly try to make you believe in the sanctity … the sanctity of _'us' _forever and ever …," he finished softly as he watched her nod in assent.

_Mark leaned into her emotional energy, making it theirs as he slipped the ring on her finger. And with one fluid movement, he pulled her onto his lap, her legs reflexively went around his waist and he held her in the moment and she held him – their baby nestled between them – as they kissed each other and basked in the love and sanctity of them, lulling and rocking, rocking and lulling each other for now and forever. Nose to nose, chest to chest, her hands flanking his skull – eyes locked tight on one another – he blinked and she was still there. It was finally true, she wasn't going anywhere. _

"You heard my answer right?" she asked, her desperate lips against his … holding on tight, swaying in harmony with him.

"Loud and clear," he answered without missing a beat … holding on tight, swaying in harmony with her.

**Business Time – Part 3 – George O'Malley to follow.**


	3. Business Time, George O'Malley

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, et al. **

**Author's Note: So, re-reading this just now made me miss George and as much as he bothered me sometimes on the show, he was still George and also a very human character and his flaws were so richly displayed by TRK. Sighs, thanks for indulging me here (and Sheila, for she really just wants to read the latter Mer/Der chapter) … enjoy!**

**Business Time – Part 3 – George O'Malley**

George O'Malley stepped outside into the frigid night air, having had a beer he knew he couldn't work, not yet anyway, but now with the extra time on his hands – _he decided to go to the hospital anyway_ – where he spent a lion's share of his free time these days. Plus … Lexie was on-call tonight, so there was that.

As he absentmindedly headed toward the hospital, he thought about his life – _his station_ – and the Chief and Adele now, having spent their entire adult lives together … no more than a set of repelling magnets – _magnets that at one time found an innate attraction_ – but somehow were turned around when _Richard's head turned to Ellis_ and his mind and body followed him there … until there was no turning back.

George shrugged his shoulders in defense against the cold air and perhaps against his own shortcomings when it came to his marriage to Callie … dear, sweet Calliope. He still harbored a very small soft spot for her – _he once loved her enough to marry her_ – he loved her, she saved him and protected him from all that was horrid in his life all those years ago and he was forever mindful of that. And he was happy for her and for Mark _– they were a pair and it was surprisingly comfortable to work and socialize with them _– and then he wondered, was it all some kind of cosmic joke … was it fate or destiny that made it all turn out like this?

His father's death being the precipice – _setting the wheels in motion for the here and now _– for everything that had happened during his intern year led him here … _to this life_ … a lonely, workaholic emergency room surgical resident. One who, much like the Chief, found solace within the walls of Seattle Grace – _where everything was predictable in its unpredictability_ – it grounded him and made it all but impossible to really take a risk and meet someone … or go out on a limb and try to trust himself to be in a relationship and not hurt or disappoint the other party. Yes, his father's death brought forth a foolish version of himself – _a desperate version of himself –_ a version of himself that caught up with him every once in a while, his foolishness, the cause for so much hurt and betrayal.

_His mother's disappointment in the dissolution of his marriage._

_(She didn't pretend to understand him; hell … he didn't understand himself.)_

_His betrayals to Callie and Izzie and himself._

_(And Meredith, he couldn't forget about Meredith, perhaps his worst betrayal of all … if only he'd known, or realized … if only.)_

_His misguided affair with Izzie. _

_(There was no excuse … none … it was an impulse, for both of them, one that should have never happened.)_

_His shame in admitting his shortcomings to Lexie. _

_(She was pure of heart … but her eyes never wavered, she never prosecuted him like she should have. She accepted him instead.)_

In the end, these women –_ these strong beautiful women – _were no match for his idiotic prowess and that was the sad part. But lucky for him, even more amazing than their strength – _was their capacity to forgive_ – they were beautiful, still and somehow over the years they all forgave him, well … maybe his friends more than his mother – _she loved him, this much he knew_ – he just wished she would look at him how she used to a long time ago.

_And that, right there, left him in his present quandary, hesitant to do wrong by any woman._

And so over time it seemed to be easier to close himself off and dream of Lexie Grey instead, having fallen in love with her years ago already. He knew it wasn't healthy and much like his crush on Meredith that first year they met, he was scared … and despite that almost everyone knew he had feelings for Lexie – _a fact she also may have recently learned after they'd gotten very drunk one night and he not-so-accidentally kissed her, brushing his lips against hers for one brief moment that somehow felt like a lifetime of kisses _– no … he didn't trust himself with her.

So dreaming of her had become easier – _part of his natural landscape_ – and he knew that was a cop-out, except it was the easiest way to keep himself on track and free from disappointing anyone else in the process. All of which seemed to be working – _with the ER running more efficiently than ever before_ – George was energized by his work and that energy alone helped him become more whole and healed, especially after that tumultuous first year. And even though he was resigned to live his life this way right now, he'd be lying if he didn't say he missed the physical connection with a woman – _a woman's touch _– and had even dated various women over the years – _but none had pulled on his heartstrings like Lexie _– not even George's crush on Meredith could be compared, for he lusted and pined for her _and he loved her too_, but only as much as he was capable of at the time.

And since then, his heart – _the heart of the elevator guy_ – had been damaged, arteries had blown, fibrillation detected, his valves and ventricles weakened … his endurance depleted until all that was left was the small part of him, a small section of his heart he never dared to feel with and that part, that small part – _belonged irrevocably to Lexie Grey_ – because she got him like no other woman ever had and she loved him (_platonically of course_) despite all of his faults and mistakes and foolishness … she never asked him to change who he was for her.

_And that meant something … to him. _

George arrived at the hospital now, entering like he always did, through _his_ front door, the automatic doors to the ER. The wind ushered him inside – _pushing against his back_ – wordlessly inviting him inside. The doors swooshed in closing behind him – _and he was home – _bright fluorescent lights, the smell of cauterized tissue, clinical air, a sea of doctors and nurses in disposable yellow surgical gowns, everything was just as it should be – _and he wasn't surprised_ – for it was Bailey's on-call rotation. And in all seriousness, there was no way the Chief would have planned a _'gentleman's evening'_ and left anyone else in charge of the pit, an opinion shared by both George and Owen … Bailey was still the best and no one could touch her.

By rote, he quickly scanned the pit area, made eye contact with the charge nurses at the main desk and nodded in assent. He eyed the board from his stance – _looked about right for a Wednesday night_ – no major traumas (_yet_) just an eclectic assortment of chest pains, minor head injuries, lacerations of some sort … lots of _sutures, sutures, sutures_. He finished scanning the room and spotted Lexie through the doorway of a triage room – _he meandered closer, engrossed by her perfunctory, yet confident movements over her patient_ – a young woman with an open head injury. Lexie's eyes remained husband-boyfriend-lover – _glancing up, she spotted George, smiled tightly with a quizzical look in her eyes, 'What are you doing here?' she asked without words full-well knowing he was supposed to be at the Chief's_ – he winked, shrugged his shoulders and backed out of her space, leaving her to her work, she would know where to find him if she needed him.

Smiling now stood outside the room for a beat longer to watch her work. And in that moment, he realized once again how proud he was of her, for under Dr. Bailey's tutelage she had become one of the rising stars of the General Surgery Department. He peered down the brightly lit corridor which led to his office – _his home away from home, home is where the heart is, home sweet home – _and was about to make his way down there when he heard the booming, yet motherly tenor of Bailey herself… _why was it that she always made him feel like he got caught with his hand inside a cookie jar?_ He turned around to meet his fate and the fiery glow he liked to pretend he could see in her eyes.

"I know you heard me O'Malley," she asserted with a raised brow. "What happened to that … that – _'gentleman's evening'_ – I had to hear so much about?" she asked incredulously, her disdain evident.

"A little penis envy there Miranda?" George quipped, shaking his head, _tsk, tsk, tsk. _

"Don't start with me," she said stepping closer, sparring. "And by the smell of you, you're no good to me either … so … if you can't help out … why in the hell are you here?" she demanded (_yet the concern in her tone overrode any prejudgments she might have had_).

"Wait … who's ER is this?" George asked amusedly.

"Mine! When your ass isn't here and I'm on-call – _it's mine_ – mine!" she glared.

George eyed her, there were no words to say, he simply smiled and shook his head while she sneered – _most certainly berating herself for falling into his trap_ – for she knew he loved to get a rise out of her … and tonight was no different, touché, match point for the lowly ER resident.

"What are you gonna do … sleep here?" she challenged, looking over his shoulder into the exam room where Lexie was working.

"Probably," he sighed, his eyes following hers.

Miranda stepped closer. "Just talk to her," she said conspiratorially as both of them watched Lexie for a beat.

"No," he shook his head. "No … no, not yet," he said.

The doctors heard a scuffle, large amounts of furious activity coming from the entrance way – _a raging sea of disposable yellow surgical gowns flooded the scene, strong directives could be heard, action, action, action_ – it looked like a multiple-injury situation.

"Looks like its _business time_," Bailey muttered.

"Yeah … get me if you need me," he said, watching her as she shifted on her feet. "You go … and I'll –"

"Be in your office, I know," she said turning to find him. "Dinner tomorrow and don't be late," she said with the serious tone only a mother could deliver.

"Right," he answered with a mock-salute.

He watched her leave and saw Lexie scurry out of the exam room, making her way over to the scuffle before he turned and finally headed down to his office. Dinner with the family, with little Tuck, his namesake – _his partner in crime_ – almost seven now, was always a welcome break for George. It was a monthly tradition Miranda started when she became closer to George's mother after his father passed away – _it was first out of their mutual need to grieve_ – the loss of a father, the loss of a patient close to the heart.

_And in the end, there was no denying it … their connection had become this intricate way their lives were woven together – largely by the institute of Seattle Grace and the happenstance of their colliding lives – but here they remained, all these years later – connected – teacher to student … woman to labor-coach … name to name … doctor to family … peer to peer … and lastly … mother to son._

George closed the door behind him and sighed with relief – _he left the light off and moved expertly around the small space_ – leaving the bustle of activity and the chaos in favor of the peaceful solitude he came to find within these four walls. He sighed and carefully made his way to the small leather sofa situated underneath the window. He slipped his jacket and shoes off and sat down – _somehow not caring that he smelled like an ashtray or that should probably brush his teeth_ – because suddenly he was quite tired and nothing but sleep seemed to matter. _It was always easier for him to find sleep here … always._ Perhaps it was because he could hear the muffled sounds of the ER as they lulled him to sleep, or maybe it was because Lexie was out there somewhere … close by … nearby … no matter what is was … sometimes just knowing she was within reach was enough for him to be able to fall asleep.

Resting his head on cushion of the armrest now, he stared out of the window and let his eyes focus on the misty sky above him – _becoming lost within the haze_ – he closed his eyes with Lexie and his mother and Bailey and his father on his mind now … all jumbled together in a cloudy mess. He opened his eyes when a stock image of Meredith popped into his head … he closed them again and saw Lexie – _her beautiful innocence, her inner strength, her brilliant mind_ – and only then did he finally let himself relax into the moment and within minutes his REM cycle started and he was off to dreamland … where sometimes … _sometimes_ the conditions of his life were perfect.

###

_A steamy haze – much like the clouds outside his office window – swirled around George and filled the bathroom where he stood with a tan towel wrapped around his hips – he looked up and found his face in the small vanity mirror, his hair was disheveled, sticking out all over the place … and it was long … so uncharacteristically … long – he started to brush his teeth and watched as he disappeared within the steam, wafting up now along with a strange sense of déjà vu – had he been here before – he wondered for a beat before he heard a soft sigh fill the room. George leaned down and rinsed his mouth – another sigh filled the small space – more than intrigued, he came to stand in front of the tempered glass of the shower doors and there he stayed for several beats before he heard that divine sigh again. He slid the door open. _

_At first he could only see the steam swirling, swirling, swirling in front of him as it came to rest along his naked skin – he blinked hard, focusing on the old two-inch red tiles that lined the walls and then his heart raced – he was back in Meredith's house! Back in Meredith's bathroom … he closed his eyes. His heart was in shambles._

_Dreams. Steam. Red tiles. Meredith. Izzie. Meredith. Cristina. Meredith. Skin. Flesh. Soap. Bomb. Code Black. Flak Jackets. Debris. Pink Mist. Beasts. Doers. Crowning. Birth. Rebirth. Tuck's both big and small. George. George. __William George Bailey-Jones. George. George. Meredith. Old Dream-Girl. Lexie. New Dream-Girl. Lexie. Red tiles. Steam. Dreams. _

_George opened his eyes to his new dream and then he saw her – Lexie – and without another thought, he stepped into the shower to join his 'dream-girl', his Lexie … his heart's desire._

_He watched her for a beat before he tossed his towel on the floor outside. He took a deep breath, making any attempt now to calm his heart. The hot water covered his feet, sending an unnecessary stratum of heat throughout his already overheated body. Steam immediately filled his lungs and masked his sense of logic – of course, deep in his subconscious he knew this was just a dream – a dream he wouldn't dare want to wake up from, certainly not now … not with a perfect view of Lexie's beautiful backside as she lathered herself. No way, no how, he mused._

"_George," she said softly, turned her head back over her shoulder. She smiled. "Could you do my back?" she asked shyly, although oh so sexy too. Batting her lashes now she turned slightly and offered him a loofah. She backed up and into him, almost pressing her tiny, firm ass into his twitching cock. _

_Unable to trust himself to say anything, George took the loofah from her and began to gently move it along her soft, round shoulders, then down her straight spine before he abruptly stopped at her inviting derrière, where he promptly dropped the sponge. It landed with a smack in between their feet, hot water splattered up along his shins. Lexie turned around then – and if his heart wasn't in shambles before, it was certainly on the verge of blowing a valve now – she stepped closer and he almost came on the spot. _

"_That's okay George," she said, taking his hand in hers. "We don't really need that … do we?" she asked innocently, her tongue darting out; she licked her lips … her beautiful face heated. _

_Hot droplets of water pinged between the would-be lovers – George couldn't breathe – awestruck by Lexie's simple beauty, her alabaster skin, rosy pink cheeks, long regal neck accentuated by her messy up-do. He dared himself to step closer, tempting fate now, afraid to touch her for fear of bursting this more than surreal bubble of a dream. _

"_No," he said, his voice shaking, so reminiscent of the teenage boy he once was. "I guess we don't," he added with a small smirk. _

_Daring himself to make the dream a reality now, George reached out and placed his hand along the angular line of her beautifully flushed cheek. She leaned into his touch, stepping even closer, her breasts almost touching his chest now. Toe to toe, they stood for a beat. _

"_George," she sighed, catching his eyes with hers, she hesitantly touched his face with her hand, her heat left an imprint as she moved her hand down to rest on his shoulder. All he could hear was his raging heart; even the sound of the shower was muted. "I've dreamt of this too …," she added breathlessly, stepping in between their feet now. Her perfectly pert breasts brushed against his pectoral muscles. _

_George's cock saluted, banging against Lexie's abdomen, her giggle filled the air. He smiled and reacted by running his fingertips slowly down her cheek to her neck before he looked her in the eyes and boldly cupped her breasts in his hands, gently testing their weight. Lexie sighed into the humid air as George passed his thumbs over her ripe, round nipples … they tightened under his gentle strokes, his mouth watered at the thought of her flesh on his tongue. _

"_Lex …," he sighed, lost in her dark, endlessly sexy gateways, the feeling of her soft flesh in his hands, it was almost too much. His cocked jumped again. _

"_I …I need your mouth on me George … please," Lexie pleaded gently, flanking his skull in her capable hands. _

_And as their eyes met and their lips touched for the first time – electricity flowed freely between the pair, surge to surge – both having been without a lover for quite some time now, their kisses became urgent and hungry in no time they were suddenly lost in a sea of desperate arms and groping hands and endless sighs and moans of appreciation._

_The duo kissed and lapped and nipped at each other's swollen lips and tongues without abandon – for it was as if they had been cruelly denied the taste of one another – and now without hesitation, their mutual animalistic instincts for each other became more evident with each passing caress. _

"_Lexie …," George choked out, pulling his lips only a fraction of an inch from hers. "What are we doing?" he panted, his fingers moving around her hairline, his eyes searching for answers … for permission. _

"_I don't care," she breathed, pulling him closer. "Just don't stop George," she whispered hotly, brushing her hand low against his raging cock. She pulled back and scanned his eyes. "Whatever you do … just don't stop …," she beseeched, her engorged nipples brushing against his chest as she heaved._

"_Jesus Lex," he muttered, warm water cascaded over her shoulders – her skin glistening in the dim light, his eyes met hers – this was one hell of a dream. _

_And on that note, he attacked her skin – that gorgeous plane from her neck to her shoulder – the plane he often dreamt of planting his lips upon and pressing his nose into the underside of her neck now … he did just that. Her arms encircled him as he sucked on her wet, freckled flesh – God she tasted so good – better than he ever dreamt she would. Lexie pulled back and found his eyes, her fingertips found his swollen lips and she smiled, her chest heaved as he took her finger in his mouth and sucked. She leaned in and seized his lips for own once again, obliterating any space between them now as he moved his hand down to her mound. _

"_I'm so hot for you George," she sighed against his lips, her tongue darting out again. "And my God …," she muttered, moving her hand down, passing it along his cock. "You're huge, so strong, so … masculine," she husked, taking him in her hands now, she pumped – up, down – one hand massaging his sack, the other running along his length … his hips bucked. _

_George's mind went blank – completely blank, 'strong and masculine', her voice funneled into his mind – he came back to 'reality' though and quickly planted his lips upon Lexie's again and in an effort to move within the dream he moved his mouth along her neck to her clavicle and sucked on her flesh, his thumbs deep in her warm, wet vee now – her sex wafting up, arresting him on first inhalation – and suddenly … suddenly he needed more!_

_A fury of moans filled the air – hearts aligned, eyes barely open now – he ducked his head down and snatched one of her perfect nipples in between his lips, flicking it with his tongue, breathing her in, lost within his feast upon her flesh – his last meal – as she whimpered into his ear, her hands tugging on his matted hair now as he switched to the other breast, feeling her fleshy nub fill with blood under his lapping tongue and nipping lips – nip, suck, suck, flick, flick, flick, suck, suck, nip – until he felt her tremble in his arms … panting, humming and begging for more as an orgasm rocked her small frame. _

"_Oh God, George!" she heaved into his ear. "Fuck me … just … fuck me," she pleaded, pressing herself against him, her hands already working his more-than-ready rod. _

"_Lex …," he husked, grasping her thigh, raising it up around his hip before he moved his fingers through her mound and pierced her hot pussy with his middle finger – molten lava – hot, hot, hot! "Oh …," he heaved, working her pussy. "You really … want me, you're so hot …," he said, brushing his thumb across her clit, her hips jerked in response. _

"_I do," she sighed, he pumped his finger into her depths again. "And I want more, George! I want your big cock!" she cried out in appreciation, her hips bucking against his finger and thumb._

_Without another word, George hoisted her up, grasping her slippery skin the best he could as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He took one meaningful stride and pinned her against the cool tiles of the shower wall before he entered her in one fluid motion – his cock filling her up, her warm, tenacious muscles accepting him there, she cried out for him – and then time stopped … in both in his dream and in his reality, for there was no difference at the moment, no difference at all._

_The duo stared at one another for a long moment and George noticed now that the shower spray had become cold, which was fitting considering the untainted heat generated between their bodies. _

"_Lex …," George said, covering her mouth with his, holding her steady, his cock twitching, her warmth covering him ... he never wanted to slip from her heat, never. _

"_George …move … just move," she sighed against his lips, pressing her breasts against his chest, constricting her thighs and pussy muscles around him now. _

"_Gladly," he found himself saying, a small smirk playing along his lips. _

_Grabbing her hips now, he pulsed upwards into her heat, pressing her back against the tiles to brace himself, the cooler water now a welcome relief for his fever-pricked skin. She gasped in pleasure as he bent his knees into a squat in an effort to pulse upwards, deeper, deeper now, fast and quick for several beats before he slowed his pace and began to gently grind his hips against hers watching now as her eyes closed in bliss and her head lolled back slightly. God, she was so fucking beautiful!_

_Her moans of appreciation clouded his mind – 'George, George, George' – she chanted as he pulsed up, up, up, bumping against her cervix – deeper, deeper, deeper, as deep as she could take him – her desperate moans filling the air now until it was all he could hear – the louder her chant became – the more furiously he pumped! _

"_George!"_

"_George!"_

_There was no time to waste now, he was there, almost there, almost ready to blow his fucking top off! His eyes closed tight in concentration – her pussy so incredibly delicious and perfect, the way it fit around his cock like a glove, no space between them now – fuck, fuck, fuck was all he could think … his balls tightened, no longer swinging free, he squeezed his eyes shut, damn … she was so fucking hot and perfect! Perfect for him! Moaning his name, calling for him, wanting him! _

"_George!"_

"_George!"_

_An intense energy with unknown speed coursed through his entire body and fresh fever pricked his skin, he was about to blow and chose this moment to open his eyes, with one last thought … to cum with her … to watch her cum! She called out to him again and he opened his eyes._

"_George!"_

"_George!"_

_###_

"George!"

"Ah, oh, oh … damn it!" he whined, his heart racing. "Lexie!" he screeched, horrified now as his heart almost gave out when he found her perched on the side of the sofa right next to him! _Holy hell, holy fuck!_

She reached for his hot cheek; he flinched. "You're flushed," she stated the obvious. "Are you okay?" she asked, her concern evident.

"Yep, yep," he said, leaning back on his hands, he pushed himself up against the armrest, carefully making eye contact with her. He was sweating.

_The steam of their hot and naughty tryst faded away along with the fog in his mind while the horny, porny hound dog music playing somewhere in his subconscious also faded until all that remained were his blue balls and his racing heart. Just fucking great!_

"What's up?" he asked, finally trusting himself to speak, he found her eyes in the dim light. "Do you need me out there?" he asked hopefully, getting back down to business.

_And then the dream was definitely over –so over before he even came with his 'dream-girl' – and what was worse, he was a big fucking sweaty, wet-dream mess! No … no times had not changed, he may as well have been back in high school! How fucking embarrassing … he looked away from his crush … closing his eyes – she appeared before him … wet and naked and flushed, her chest heaved with virtual want for him– he opened his eyes to his reality once again._

"No," she said, standing up, she turned away from him. "Not out there – _no_ – we … _we_ don't … need you …," she muttered, pacing now. She slipped her lab coat off and tossed it onto his desk. George followed her circuit, watching her carefully now as she gathered speed.

"What then?" he asked, following her lead, he stood. She turned to him. He watched her cheeks heat – _blotches of pink appeared now_ – and he knew she was stuck. He knew her well enough to know she was confused, that her photographic mind was working on over-drive. Either that … or she needed sleep. "Lex, what?" he persisted, taking a couple of meaningful steps toward her.

She turned away from him and rested her back against the door. A shadow conveniently shrouded her face. "I just – _I want to try something_ – the other night … when we … you know … conditions weren't perfect George …," she stammered nervously in frustration, she smiled weakly and then looked at the ceiling. _"Not that they are now,"_ she chastised herself, rambling on, finally moving out of the dark. She smiled again; she was a nervous, twitching, rambling mess (_much like how he felt around her sometimes_). "I just want –"

"What?" George said, stepping closer, hardly believing they were headed where he hoped they were. "Because I know what I want …," he said boldly – _carpe diem, fuck it – _he decided right then and there he was going for it… for her! "_Who_ do you want?" he persisted, locking her eyes with his for a moment … _he wanted her, he had always wanted her and now … now he just needed to tell her. _

"You," she sighed, locking the door with her hand behind her back. "When you kissed me … I …felt …," she shook her head.

"What did you feel?" he asked, coming to stand in front of her. _She wanted him, wow, wow … was all he could think … he wanted her to pinch him._ He placed his hands on either side of her head and leaned in. "I know what I felt …," he confessed. "You can say anything to me …," he breathed and she chuckled nervously.

She cocked her head. "What did you feel?" she answered with a question of her own, sparring now.

"You … your lips … you kissed me back," he said boldly, leaning closer still – _say it, say it, say it_ – he coached himself. "I have a confession …," he said softly, brown eyes scanning brown eyes now.

"A confession …," she sighed, leaning into him slightly.

"Hmm, yes …," he smiled, taking a deep breath of their air inside his lungs. "I … I've been in love with you for … ever," he said, his heart raging inside his chest, no sign of letting up … he watched all the worry disappear from her eyes, her face softened … and then she was just Lexie – _his best friend, his muse, his crush_ – suddenly his everything.

"I'm in love with you too, George," she sighed, sucking in a deep breath. "I always have been …," she whispered. George swallowed hard. "And …," she said softly, she closed her eyes, releasing tiny tears. George ran his fingertips along her hairline and across her cheeks,_ don't cry, don't cry,_ he smiled and so did she.

"And …," he whispered, daring himself again, to leap, to take it all on faith.

"And … I always will be," she breathed. "I love you … there, I finally said it and you … you … love me too," she giggled breathlessly.

"I do … I do," he sighed; hardly believing he said it at all.

_Staring at each other now it was as if nothing was different, except that everything was – more intense, more intimate – her brown eyes scanned his, her hot breath breezed across his cheeks, fanning him, heating him up. Nose to nose, fingertips massaging skulls … they finally came to see eye to eye._

_And in that stolen moment – locked away from the world and all the chaos of the ER – all of their tumult … and all of their secret feelings … washed back out to sea with the quiet storm of 'them', taking with it their desperation and separation too._

"Now what?" he asked, his body humming … the electrical currents running between them, the cause.

"Kiss me again, George," she sighed with her searching eyes, her hot breath still fanning his face. He reached up and took her head in his hands and did just that.

_And as their lips met it felt exactly like it did that night – like they had been kissing each other for an eternity already – like she was the only woman he was meant to kiss for now and for all time. Tears of suppressed emotion gathered his eyes and he gathered her in his arms and finally allowed himself to lean into her heat, to breathe her in, to pulse his lips over hers and massage her tongue with his … because he was meant to … because she wanted him too and because finally … finally … conditions were perfect. _

**Business Time – Part 4 – Alex Karev to follow.**


	4. Business Time, Alex Karev

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, et al. **

**Author's Note: Thanks to all who are reading, I presume those Alex/Izzie shippers will enjoy this part! Let me know what you think. **

###

**Business Time – Part 4 – Alex Karev**

Alex Karev stood under the awning of the Chief's high-rise apartment building with his good pal Owen Hunt as he finished a conversation with Cristina, who happened to be with Izzie. The good doctor chuckled, wondering what the hell was going on upstairs at the moment – _secretly thrilled to have gotten out of there when he did_ – thankful that he, for once in his life, wasn't the one dealing with the fallout.

"Good enough, I'll see you there," Owen said into the line. He handed the phone to Alex. "It's Izzie," he chuckled.

"Hey babe," he greeted; he could hear her smile through the line. Cristina was yapping in the background, both women were in fits of giggles over something.

"_So Adele, holy shit!"_ Izzie exclaimed into the line, raucous laughter erupted again.

"Hmm, hmm," he chuckled at their antics, having long-since gotten used to Cristina as his wife's friend and as much as he would hate to admit it … he liked her now – _as much as he was ever going to_ – so there was that.

"_Wow,"_ she muttered_. "So … you're on your way home I hear?"_ she inquired.

"Yes ma'am," he confirmed, watching as two taxicabs pulled up. "Taxis are here, I'm about ten minutes out," he added.

"_See you in a few,"_ she said and again he could hear her smile.

"You bet," he said before he snapped the phone shut and handed it back to Owen. "They're going crazy over that little tidbit," Alex muttered to his friend. "Where are you headed?" he asked.

"We're meeting at Joe's …nightcap," Owen offered as they approached the taxicabs.

"So …," Alex said as he pulled on the door handle. "Are you going to do something about that ring of yours or what?" he asked his friend for what had to be the tenth time since he had picked up Cristina's engagement ring from the jeweler two days ago.

"The time has to be right _– I can't just blurt it out_ – even though … even though I really just want to," he chuckled as he opened the door to his taxi.

"Just get down to business and ask her – _she's no nonsense_ – she won't want all the … grand gestures, but … _you_ know that already," Alex counseled with a wry grin. "Ask her tonight – _and don't take 'no' for an answer _– lean into your fear man," he chided as he opened the door to the taxi and laughed like the devil inside.

"Yeah _– tonight_ – maybe tonight," Owen said with a shrug and a final salute as the men slipped into their respective taxis.

Alex gave the driver – an_ older gentlemen with a ruddy complexion, salt and pepper hair and an amicable grin_ – the address of the small Tudor style he and Izzie purchased a couple of years ago, having finally felt the need to move out of Meredith's house (_the only house of their youth_) in favor of solidifying the idea of _them_. And so far it worked, for buying the house and making plans for the future had in fact propelled them to a new level of maturity and understanding and commitment in their life together.

_It gave them longevity._

_It gave them shelter._

_It gave them hope. _

The house was the antithesis of what he and Izzie grew up with and in some ways that humbled them – _sobered them up_ – but in many other ways it just served as a reminder to dream big and work hard on the premise that those dreams might come true. And so far Alex couldn't complain because as Izzie always said they fared pretty well (_cancer aside of course_), they were doing pretty well, _'not too shabby for a perpetual jock and an ex-lingerie model.'_

The driver pulled up to the house, Alex grinned at him in the rearview mirror. He handed the man some bills over the barrier of the front seat. "Keep the change," he offered with a smile as he exited the taxi.

He closed the door behind him, the driver waved to him and he stepped onto the curb – _loping by the recycling bins and garbage cans_ – before looked up to find his wife's curvaceous silhouette situated just inside the open doorway. She was waiting for him. He took the steps two at a time, the porch light went on, her silhouette disappeared and only she remained.

"Hey," she said softly, clicking the latch, she opened the door for him.

"Hey," he sighed, coming to stand in front of her – _her endless blue eyes sparkling now_ – her thick blond hair framed her beautifully round and _healthy_ face. He closed the door behind him and kissed her full lips.

She giggled. "You taste like a _'gentlemen's evening'_," she teased against his mouth.

"I know," he laughed; slipping his jacket off, he hung it on the nearby hook. He set his keys down on the table there; making a note of the familiar brown envelope that sat there unopened for weeks … the one from the adoption agency – _astonishingly __opened__ now_ – he couldn't help but smile. _Had she reconsidered? His heart raced at the unfathomable possibility. _He smiled tightly, he would wait for her to broach the subject, let her take the lead.

"Are you hungry?" Izzie asked, her beautiful eyes searching his as he turned around to face her. "I still have some stuff out from Cristina's visit," she elaborated, always aiming to please his _appetite_.

"Nah, I'm gonna shower … smell better," he laughed. "So I can get in bed with you," he flirted.

"Oooh, I'll meet you upstairs," she cooed, pecking him on his cheek. "I'm just gonna put this stuff away and I'll be up," she murmured, her heat radiating long after her lips left his flesh. He watched her go.

She turned around. "You okay?" she asked.

"What? Can't I watch you walk away and admire the view?" he teased.

"Oh ...," she smiled and raised her brow. "You can and you … you should!" she dished back as she sashayed more purposefully down the hallway with a laugh.

_He smiled and watched her perfect ass shake from side to side as she retreated. He slipped his shoes off and stood in the foyer for a beat. His eyes moved over their comfortable living room now, complete with canary yellow painted walls, bright white crown molding (which was a bitch to install in the old place) and their own eclectic collection of furniture – soft golden light illuminated the small, but homey space where so many great memories had been made so far – yes … their space, their comfort zone had indeed become something special. And Alex even had to admit that the old wingback chairs Izzie recently rescued from a garage sale and later refurbished, were a perfect fit for the picture window in the corner there. He smiled, clicked the light off and made his way up the stairs._

Padding down the old hardwood floorboards along the hallway now, Alex bypassed the spare bedrooms – _one, two, three … all decorated and intended to be guest bedrooms by design _– except that now (_as he came to expect_), his heart sank when he thought about them as such. For they knew _– they both knew_ – that filling those rooms with children would be a tough proposition, one that they appropriately put on the back-burner when they bought this dream house – _with cancer to beat and abandonment issues to conquer_ – they avoided the topic … and chose to focus on the here and now, of that time anyway. But now … his heart sank because somewhere along the line Alex Karev grew up … and somewhere along that line, he realized he wanted to be a father.

_Alex walked into their master suite and flipped the dimmer switch on – easy, peaceful light illuminated the space in all the right places – he heaved a sigh of relief, his eyes moving over their enclave. He allowed the serene energy and the soft, soothing tones of sea foam green and deep indigo fill his mind and heart now – calming down, he took a deep breath in – and allowed the energy of their private space to strip away at the old paint of the day like turpentine. _

He padded across the plush ecru carpet to their dresser, pulling the top drawer open; he grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms and turned around. His eyes fell on their small lounge area – _complete with a small fireplace and a mantle _– he noted a new collection of medical reference texts and fashion magazines lay stacked near one of the comfortable chairs. Alex smiled, assuming now that Izzie had done some light reading today while she was off. He was about to turn away, but then noticed his favorite framed photograph was missing from the collection that lined the mantle.

_Family. Friends. Family. Brothers. Sisters. Mama Bear. Children. Family. Family. Friends. Family. _

He crossed the room and stood in front of the fireplace for a beat before he looked down and spied the frame on top of a folded cashmere blanket that lay on Izzie's chair. He leaned down and picked it up, putting it back into place. His eyes swept over the collection of memories again.

A photo of Izzie and Bailey – _arm in arm, wide smiles, beautiful givers_ – at the Fifth Annual Fund Raising Party for the Duquette Free Clinic.

_(Izzie had never been happier … soon after the photo was taken she decided to run the clinic on a full time basis.)_

A snapshot of him and O'Malley from a few years ago. George's rough-and-tumble brothers, with their perpetual goofy mugs stood in the center – _flanked by Owen and Mark –_ just before they set out to go on their annual camping and fishing pilgrimage.

_(Shepherd took that photo.)_

Meredith and Derek sitting on the sofa downstairs three Christmases ago, she was hugely pregnant and gorgeous, with Derek's hand resting comfortably on her belly – _his glowing sister never looked happier_ – he smiled, she might disagree … but pregnancy agreed with her, made her face fuller … happier.

_(He took that shot himself.)_

Owen and Cristina at this small Italian bistro they all loved (_the best garlic bread around town, they all agreed_), a surprise birthday dinner she threw for him last year. They were about as happy as two serious people could be – _his eyes were stoic and so were hers and yet, they were really smiling_ – his arm was draped around the small frame of her shoulders, she was leaning into him.

_(Izzie took that one.)_

George flanked by Lexie and Meredith at Joe's, the night after Lexie passed her Interns' Exam – _perched high at the top of her class of course_ – they really looked like a couple, she and George, with their eyes locked on one another while Meredith smiled at the camera.

_(Izzie took that one too.)_

He smiled as his eyes fell on his favorite photo in the lot – _a moment caught by Meredith_ – at the new Interns' Cocktail Party a couple of years ago. Izzie's hand on his chest, with her head thrown back in a fit of laughter as they joked about the flip remarks he made to her once a long time ago at their own intern mixer.

_(There was a lot he secretly loved about that moment, but mostly he loved that they had survived and lived to __relive__ that moment again. They were blessed.)_

Alex sighed and ran fingertips along Izzie's face there and smiled. Sometimes it was hard to remember she had cancer at all, for she was a picture of health now. Long gone were the days in which he would wait for the other shoe to drop – _wait for the red flags_ – fever, soreness, fatigue, new skin lesions. He watched her like a hawk until she had been given not one, but six (_biannual_) clean bills of health. He smiled tightly _– her illness was hard to remember but even harder to forget _– his eyes clouded over, he turned away from the memories and headed for the shower before he would become too emotional.

Once there, Alex flipped the light switch on and started the shower, quickly disrobed and stepped into the warm, steamy water. As he washed the cigar stench from his skin and hair, he thought about the envelope downstairs and the implications behind Izzie's review of the documents. He relaxed slightly now – _exhaling a deep breath of air that he'd been holding onto_ – maybe even since he stepped into their room earlier. He sighed with a slight pang of relief now as he thought about Izzie contemplating the idea of adoption for the second _or third or fourth time_ since their latest discussion about it a few weeks ago.

He shook his head, it always went something like this: both he and Izzie wanted a biological child of their own making – _and they knew they could most likely use Izzie's harvested eggs and conceive (via a Petri dish) and make that dream happen_ – except that for a host of perfectly valid reasons, Izzie was gun-shy of the idea and if he was gonna be honest, Alex couldn't blame her. All he could really do was listen and be there for her the way she was there for him.

###

_"No Alex! No more doctors, no more medical interventions, no more poking and prodding – look, I __know__ that's what we do – I __know__ how fucking stupid this sounds because it's our dream ... but … ," she heaved, her face beet-red, her blue eyes shocked, bewildered. He shook his head._

_"Izz ... look ... I'll do whatever you want ...," he reassured, coming to stand in front of her. _

_She shook her head; she was defeated. Alex's heart broke knowing how hard it was to even think about giving up on the idea of being a mother, having already offered one child up for adoption. He knew this was killing her inside … motherhood, slipping through her fingers all over again. He took a step closer to her and folded her neatly into the envelope of his arms. Holding her steady how he learned to do over time, it was all he could do sometimes to calm her duress._

_"Alex," she whispered into his neck, her hot breath slamming into his skin as she spoke. "As sure as I am that this would work for us – I'm just so tired – and now I'm healthy ...Alex …," she pulled back; her pleading blue eyes scanned his. "I'm healthy," she reiterated – now a statement of fact – not just something she was trying to convince him of anymore._

_"I know, I know you are and I don't want to mess with that either," he soothed, trying to allay her fears. She pulled back and smiled, pressing her lips together she turned out of his embrace and began to pace – back and forth now – like a caged tiger until their peaceful living room fell away and there they stood ... alone ... with this twelve-ton elephant they learned to live with._

_"I'm healthy Alex ..." she fumed, her eyes became darker and he sighed, for this is what he had been waiting for, the inevitable meltdown. He walked toward her, but she paced away from him. "I'm healthy ... and all I can think about is how it doesn't mean jack shit –__ I mean, look at Hannah now – __and I was__ healthy__ Alex!" she sparred, turning around again. "I was a healthy reckless teenager and I couldn't even guarantee her ... longevity or ... or fortitude!" she screeched into the silence all around them, her chest heaved and her tears fell. _

_Alex was helpless. In that moment, he was truly helpless. He watched her work through it because sometimes it was all he could do, let her talk it out and wait until she needed him. She paced, he followed her with his eyes. _

"_I mean … Hannah," she sighed, tears gathering again as she came to stand in front of him. "Even if she was adopted by the nicest most-deserving couple in the world, she still –"_

"_But what if we're that couple this time Izz?" Alex dared himself to ask, he didn't usually push … except this time, he did. Her head snapped up and her ferocious eyes locked on his for a beat._

_And that's when the tears started, tears of what he wasn't exactly sure – joy, happiness, fear, worry, relief – no, he wasn't sure, so he left it alone and instead he asked around and obtained some information on the best adoption agencies in Seattle. And that's where they stood – in a silent stale mate – carefully avoiding that topic just like they avoided the elephant they learned to live with._

###

Until now – _until he came home tonight and the envelope was open for all to see_ – for him to see.

He turned the shower off and snaked his arm out to grab a fresh indigo towel from the rack. He stepped from the shower and turned the faucet on, ran his toothbrush under the stream, added some toothpaste and began to brush. He reached up and wiped the mirror off with a hand towel … _his tired reflection appeared within_. Holding the brush in his mouth, he quickly dried himself off and slipped his pajama bottoms on, not bothering to tie them. Through the mirror, he watched as the door slowly swung open as Izzie walked inside the small room wearing nothing but a low cut pink camisole and a pair of matching panties – _she was the picture of health_ – she smiled and kissed his damp shoulder, breathing him in as she did.

"Much better," she smirked, in reference to his clean skin. She smiled, picked up her toothbrush, applied some toothpaste and began to brush alongside Alex – _soapy smiles adorned their faces now, ear to ear, shoulder to shoulder, side by side_ – they brush and brushed, smirking at each other through the mirror like teenagers.

Alex rinsed his mouth and Izzie followed suit. He handed the towel to her; she patted her face dry, hung the towel up and followed him to bed. The couple slipped in between the sea foam green sheets and instinctively rolled into one another, meeting somewhere in the middle of the large, four-post bed. Izzie smiled and so did Alex, there was nothing quite like coming home to Izzie every night, Alex mused … just knowing she was healthy, knowing that they were in it together was sometimes all he needed. Partners for now and all time. He leaned in and without hesitation he kissed her perfect minty heart-shaped lips.

"Thanks for taking the recycling out," he teased with a wink.

"Hmm, you noticed that, huh?" she asked, leaning into his heat, she rested her hands on his chest, her chin on her hands … she batted her long lashes.

"Yep," he said, leaning down he pulsed his lips over hers. "You know …," he smiled like the devil. "I'm a sure thing," he laughed. "You don't have to take the trash out to get some," he cackled now.

Izzie's giggle filled the air. "Sure thing … really?" she asked, pumping her lips over his. "I'll have to remember that …," she teased, resting her chin on his chest again. She giggled again. "Speaking of sure things … so … how awkward was it when Adele showed up?" she asked.

Alex shook, an impromptu chill coursed through his body. "I'm home aren't I?" he quipped.

Izzie leaned up and began to kiss Alex's neck and earlobes, tugging, sucking and teasing. "Yes … and the night's still young …," she said hotly into his ear. Taking her cue, Alex rolled her over, pinning her beneath him. She giggled breathlessly, her blue eyes sparkling in the dim nighttime light. "Conditions are perfect …," she sighed, fully relaxing into the moment.

"How young?" he husked, darting his tongue into the delicious minty cavern of her mouth. "And how perfect?" he persisted, pinning her hands over her head while he attacked her neck with a fury of kisses, her hips flew off the bed and a blur of a moment, she rolled him over.

"_This_ young," she breathed heavily, straddling his waist, she sat up and pulled her tank top over her head – _her large, alabaster tits swung free as she heaved, her skin glowing in the dim nighttime shadows now_ – as her perfectly pert and rosy and round nipples hardened under his watchful eyes as he held her gaze, he could eat her alive – _she was a vision, akin to a cherub, angelic and sexy as hell_ – she leaned forward, sucking on his earlobe once again, her taut nipples cutting across his chest now as he growled in her ear. "And _this _perfect," she said hotly as her nimble fingers worked at the waistband of his pajama bottoms, she raised herself up on her knees and he shimmied out of the pants altogether.

His cock sprang free and she giggled, the soft tip of his head brushed against the warm flesh of her inner thigh and he nearly lost it from sheer proximity alone as he rolled her over and she shimmied beneath him right out of her panties before she clasped her feet around his waist – _hungry lips fused together, tongues massaging as they went,_ _core to core, heat to heat now_ – for they were finally free, finally in the nude … _finally ready to explore … those perfect … conditions._

"Just you tonight …," she muttered between kisses. "I just want you," she sighed. "No games Alex," she said before darting her tongue into his mouth where he sucked on it, _hard._

_Ignoring her lust-filled advances for now, Alex moved his mouth down from the long column of her beautiful neck, fully intending to taste her skin. He felt her hands grip his skull as he pressed his mouth over her clavicle, then down, down, down to her beautiful, rosy pleasure points – yes, she wanted just him, his cock – she wanted to bury him alive in her depths! But __he__ … he needed to taste her – just the taste of her sweet, aroused flesh in his mouth – that was all he needed these days!_

_For ever since Izzie had been deemed 'healthy', he noticed how fucking good she tasted again … so fucking good and __healthy__ …for he had been deprived of her natural elixir whilst she was sick – she tasted different then, how could she not with so many drugs pulsing through her veins – so now, even years later … every time they made love, he had to taste her … her rosy nipples, her beautiful and sinful pussy. Yes, he needed her on his tongue like his lungs needed air. _

_And now he did just that – he took his taste, he would drink from the well – for just a moment, for as long as she would tolerate it, for Alex also knew when Izzie wanted to be fucked … and she never minced words … so he'd be quick …after all, he knew her need to 'connect' was strong tonight – he saw it in her eyes when he first walked into the house – for he knew that after mulling over the adoption papers all day, that she would need to make sure of 'them' – that she would need to look into his eyes as they made love to know they were fine – which of course, they __were__ and he would show her as much … __after__ he tasted her pussy. _

"Izz," he muttered, his mouth moving beyond her perfect tits, down to her soft zaftig curves … _lower and lower and lower now._ He kissed her hipbones, her knees fell open and her intoxicating sex arrested him. He placed the palm of his hand over the soft hair of her mound to keep her steady. "You're so fucking beautiful," he husked, her hands found his skull and she pulled upwards, he reached up and laced his fingers through hers and held her in the moment as he dipped his tongue beyond her wet folds, breaching those flood gates for the first time of the night.

_Her hips bucked up and he closed his whole mouth over her delicious hole. And there he stayed, his mouth covering her essence, his tongue massaging her nerves – up and down he moved now, from her perineum all the way up to her perfect pink clit – back and forth, back and forth – all the while, drinking down the juicy fruit of her womanhood! He was selfish, he knew that much – but Izzie also knew he would take her just far enough orally – just enough to taste her precum before he would slam into her and fuck her senseless! _

_For if there was one person he understood, it was Izzie and he knew she wanted to cum with him and he would never deny either of them that pleasure. Not tonight … not ever!_

"_Oh God Alex!"_ came her warbled call as he felt her muscles begin to clamp down around his tongue and lips.

_Her hips rose up and into his mouth – her reaction, exactly what he wanted – her delicious pink skin was all around him … the her essence was all he could breathe and taste! He was lost, lost within her womanhood, the woman she was, the woman he fell in love with all those years ago – her health, her vitality, her strength, her big heart – yes, he was lost now as he skillfully brought her just shy of that climax she craved so much. Her muscles clamped down again – systematically now, his cock twitched in response – quickly now he sucked hard on beautiful swollen clit one last time … so tasty, so perfect, so fleshy –swirl, swirl, swirl – he made little figure eights with his tongue … once, twice … she was almost there! _

_Izzie screamed his name over and over again now, her muscles going crazy – her chant – it was all he could hear now as she released her hands from his skull and let her legs fall wide open for him – her beautiful glistening, swollen pussy – spread out for him like a buffet! He crawled up her bountiful body and wasted no time before he settled himself at her floodgates and watched through hooded eyes as his rock hard cock disappeared into her warm and awaiting depths. He leaned down and into her heat to take all she would soon give. _

His lips found hers and he kissed her mouth and pulsed into her pussy with the same rhythmic beat – _with the same tenacity and intensity_ – he fucked her just how she wanted him to … his wild eyes found hers _– they were connected_ – they were one once again. "I love you," he heaved, his words hung in the air between them.

_The sentiment – the praise, the adoration – the raw, passionate 'I love you' was one that, somehow over the years – became perfectly natural, perfectly warranted for Alex – and yet somehow still … it jarred him, whenever he muttered it from that deep place only Izzie took him to … somehow it mattered more and always made his heart clench down inside his chest. _

_She was close and so was he. They were bonded, connected – finally eye to eye – ready now to take on whatever or __whoever__ might come their way. _

_With his eyes locked on hers, Alex pulsed down with veracity now – their mutual need, evident – Izzie clenched her muscles around his rod again, skin around skin, stretching, covering him like a glove of ownership … holding him inside the moment exactly how she wanted to … exactly how she needed … to make sure of 'them'._

"I love you too," she husked into his mouth, pumping her lips over his. "So fucking much," she managed to say as she rolled her hips up and back to take as much of him as she could.

_Alex planted his lips on her neck, kissing, sucking, nipping and tasting, moving lower and lower until he latched his mouth over her engorged peaks he loved so much, he just couldn't get enough of her._

_And on that thought, he leaned into her heavenly depths with all his might. Her muscles went wild again – clench, clench, clench, milk, milk, milk, cum, cum, cum – she was his and he … he was hers! Her muscles were relentless … she was tenacious, full of life and full of love!_

_clench, milk, cum _

_The crescendo of his orgasm began ... gathering speed now._

_clench, milk, cum _

_Untamed energy ripped up and down his spine … all he could do was hold on._

_clench, milk, cum, cum_

_He gently pounded into Izzie's tight muscles … her beautiful friction enveloped his cock and soul and everything in between. _

_clench, milk, cum, cum, cum_

_Until in a furious culmination of lust and movement, he growled and barreled into her with all he had one last time._

_cum, cum, cum, cum, cum, cum, cum_

_While she held him steady, his rock … his lover, his Izzie. He kissed her then, all over her face, peppering tiny wet kisses all over her heated dewy skin. Her hands were everywhere, roaming, soothing, rubbing, she held him inside of her and inside of the moment like there was nothing more important in the world. And that's how he knew – that's how Alex knew Izzie loved him – because she always held him … she always made him stay with her, she cared and so did he. She pressed her lips to his forehead and he found her eyes in the dark. She smiled and plucked his lips with hers. His softened cock slipped from her depths, he felt naked … exposed. _

He rolled off of her, grabbed the quilt, pulled it up and rested his head on her pillow in one fluid movement. He draped his leg over her thighs in a jackknife and pulled her closer. Her prickly, damp skin nothing but a delicious reminder of their lovemaking now as she kissed over and over again – _skillfully bringing him down from his high, like no other woman before her_ – as he let himself relax into her mission. He closed his eyes; she rested her head over his heart. His mantra rolled over his head – _back and forth now_ – as he became quite sleepy, '_we're okay – she's happy and healthy – we're okay'._

"_Alex,"_ came Izzie's soft voice.

"Hmm," he opened his eyes; she rested her chin on her hands over his heart.

"I'm ready …," she sighed, her eyes were shining.

"You are," he agreed, cupping for her full, healthy face.

"I think we could do this and I think it could be really great," she sighed, her cheeks still flushed from their session, her eyes full of hope.

"I think so too, Izz," he sighed with relief, she crawled up – _draping her leg over his_ – she pressed her head into the crook of his neck.

"You're right … we could be that couple, just like Hannah's parents," she breathed, her voice wavering now and her eyes surely watering. He squeezed her tight, holding her steady just like she did for him.

"We could," he agreed, pressing a kiss into her blond locks. "We _are_ Izz … we _are_ that couple," he encouraged, running his fingertips up and down the smooth skin of her back.

"I love you," she sighed, becoming heavier in his arms.

"And I love you … I really do," he whispered as she burrowed deeper into his heat.

_And as he relaxed into the moment holding his wife – Isobel Katherine Stevens Karev – in his capable arms he took a deep breath of her healthy and sated sweet essence one more time before he closed his eyes for the night – because she loved him … and because she wore him out … and because they might be parents one day – and because he had to be up early in the morning and mostly because … he … really was … quite … sleepy … now._

**Business Time – Part 5 – Owen Hunt to follow. **


	5. Business Time, Owen Hunt

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, et al. **

**Author's Note: Once again, thank you to those who are kind enough to give me a chance with this story … I know it's different, so I appreciate it. Just a reminder, historical facts through S5 … I hope those of you who are Crowen fans enjoy this part. Let me know what you think!  
**

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**Business Time – Part 5 – Owen Hunt**

As the taxi driver pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic, Owen's mantra as of late was still running that contiguous loop in his head – _'ask her, ask her, ask her'_ – and for once all he could do was smile. Maybe Alex was right – _maybe it was time to just get down to business and ask her_ – after all, his hesitation in asking her wasn't about fear of rejection, it was more out of wanting to find that _perfect moment_ – _except that the perfect moment hadn't materialized _– and now he was just vacillating like the wind with a ring he wasn't sure she would want … and now he had to wonder why. For it was no secret that Owen Hunt had been infatuated with Cristina Yang (_on some level_) since the day he first met her.

_He smiled. _

Before that day – _he'd been a mess_ – well,_ he_ _was still a mess afterwards too_, but in some way and without so much as a word, Cristina managed to balance him out and when he met her again and started working at Grace – _she truly cancelled his pain with her own and made him feel better without even trying_ – a strange set of facts that had boggled Owen's mind for some time after they met. Until he masterfully learned to penetrate the veil of avoidance from which she resided under and then _– then_ _like a windfall, or a lottery, or a Godsend_ – it all of a sudden made sense – _how she could do that for him, cancel his pain with hers_ – for her story was much like his… _a tragic one._

Yes, from the moment they met Owen could tell Cristina was in pain (_piercing icicle aside of course_), she was in pain – _for_ _her eyes and her heart told him so_ – God, he remembered it almost hurt to look at her back then, with her unsettled eyes – _she was very much a reflection of his own pain and suffering _– two anomalies he had grown accustomed to avoiding. _Avoidance_ … yeah, he was a pro at it and he remembered now once again how much is hurt to look into her small, dark and serious, yet completely captivating eyes. It pained him – _he supposed_ _it was the idea of shared pain that hurt the most _– because somewhere in the deep recesses of their life experiences, they were connected via that pain and suffering and somehow it hurt to know or even suspect that Cristina felt their unfortunate connection too.

And it wasn't until later, _much later_, that Owen would finally connect the dots – _that he would finally figure out their ill-fated alignment_ – and he remembered now that their connection didn't surprise him or shock him, rather he expected it and he _forgave_ it and _welcomed it with open arms even. _Because those separate heartaches would become the impetus for their unique magnetism and he could never have turned his back on that force – _the force of loss_ – and the helplessness that accompanied watching a loved one slowly succumb and surrender … their lives.

_He was bleeding._

_He was bleeding out. _

_He was bleeding to death. _

_No one to count on … she had no one. _

_No gifted surgeon on hand to fix the bleed … she would become one. _

_No, not even the prayers of a tenacious nine year-old girl could have saved … him. _

_Not enough surgeons to share the load … he was a lone warrior._

_Not enough resources to save those who needed saving … he would become enough._

_No, not even the prayers of a tenacious, dedicated army surgeon could have saved … them._

_They were bleeding._

_They were bleeding out. _

_They were bleeding to death. _

So in the end, those they watched, those who – _bled, bled out, bled to death_ – brought them together, they brought them to a new level of acceptance and understanding. And yes, those very intimate, personal and private moments of pure hell and helplessness somehow equated trust and from within that trust _– they forged an unbreakable bond_ – and came to love and tolerate each other's pain and avoidance, which left them where they were presently – _living and working together_ – and quite peacefully at that.

Owen took a deep breath and sighed, they had certainly come a long way. _He smiled again, for he just couldn't help it, even within the tough material of their bond … he couldn't help but smile sometimes._ The taxi driver navigated through the back streets, a neighborhood Owen had never been through before and he watched with interest now as they passed by the small houses – _simple, well-maintained places _– and in that moment he wondered if he and Cristina would ever end up in a house like that. And then he smiled yet again because he realized if he wanted to know the answer to that question, then he should definitely ask her … _tonight._

"_Rain,"_ came the driver's gruff voice, effectively interrupting Owen's private reverie. "Perfectly nice night and then … _rain_," he said flatly, shaking his head.

"Must be good for business though," Owen offered, catching the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror. He smiled tightly.

"Yeah … _business as usual_," the driver smiled back, turning down another alleyway, although this one was vaguely familiar.

Owen looked straight ahead and saw – _the familiar faint glow of the hospital lights now calling him 'home', he would know those lights from any direction, yellow, akin to jaundice, glowing like a misguided halo, those lights … they certainly called him 'home'_ – Joe's would be in the left at the end of the block. He retrieved his wallet and the driver pulled up in a quiet halt. Owen handed some bills to him.

"Keep the change, thanks for the lift," he said with a smile.

"Sure thing," the driver replied as Owen pulled on the door handle and stepped into the rain.

Once outside, Owen ducked down and made brief eye contact with the driver who gave him a mock-salute. Owen smiled again, watching now as the driver sped off and for some reason, keeping his eyes trained on the retreating taillights until they disappeared entirely.

_He stood still in the light rain. Unable to move, he peered up and into the overcast sky for a beat__. Rain.__ It pelted down, its own haphazard rhythm played along his shoulders – the weather had indeed changed in a heartbeat – Owen smiled, lots of things changed in a heartbeat, he mused quietly … things changed quite suddenly and out of the blue sometimes._

_For one night maybe there would be freezing cold rain, then the ice would come – ice, icicles would take shape, harden, drip, drip, drip to a fine, razor sharp point – then the sun would come out perhaps, or the wind would change or some other force would jar those icicles quite suddenly and … they might fall and hit something … or __someone__. _

_He there again he found himself smiling._

With that, Owen shivered in the cold and turned toward the doorway, but stopped as a small group of people barreled through the dimly lit rectangle. He stepped inside and spotted Cristina perched on a barstool, and even though her back was facing him – _his heart melted and he was defrosted from the cold all over again_, _the light fell across her shoulders like an angel's halo_ – just like the day they met. He glided across the floor, watching her now as she spoke animatedly on her cell phone. He sat down next to her – _her sparkling and amused eyes flickered against the filtered light, she held his gaze_ – as she promptly leaned in and kissed him fully on the mouth without missing a beat of her phone call. _She tasted of red wine and peanuts._ She giggled and he smiled as she stayed inside their energy; he heard the distinct melody of Meredith's voice come through the line.

"Is that so?" Cristina laughed. "Well, enjoy it Mer, seriously … … a whole two nights without the rugrats …," she laughed, catching Owen's eyes with hers. "They'll be _fine _– _for God sake's_ – you left them with Mother Earth incarnate!" she cackled at her reference to Derek's mother, lightly chastising her dear friend now. "Have _fun_ – _feed the beast or beasts_ _or whatever_ – okay …yeah right … hmm, hmm … bye," she said with a mischievous glint to her eyes. She snapped her phone shut, her eyes falling on his again, she leaned into their heat.

"Hi," he said, kissing her sweet, drunk lips again.

"Hi," she echoed, her tone softened, she smiled. "Meredith was on the ferry," she offered, her voice low and reflective. She reached for her wine glass and handed it to him.

He smiled and took a sip. "Thank you," he said softly, appreciating the bittersweet flavor of the burgundy liquid. He inched closer and handed the glass back to her. He pressed a kiss to her neck. "Hmm _– big thing for them _– it's nice don't you think … what they're doing," he said, inching even closer, breathing her in, she giggled.

"It is," she agreed. She took another sip of her wine and handed the glass back to him.

_He took another sip. God, she looked so beautiful, the way her eyes sparkled in the dim lights, she was stunning – and relaxed – it helped that she had already been off from work for hours. The wine funneled down his throat, burning his esophagus in the most delicious of ways. _

"So…," he said, turning his bar stool towards hers as he positioned her knees in between his open thighs. He inched closer but lost his words … _'ask her, ask her, ask her', _he dared himself again.

"This is cozy," she muttered. He could feel her heat. She pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, just above his jacket collar – _one item of clothing he didn't plan on taking off_ – for suddenly he didn't plan for them to stay all that long.

"It is," he agreed. He locked his eyes on hers and smiled. She took a sip of _their _wine. He chuckled. "So …," he tried again, his mind reeling, he wanted to ask her – _now, somehow, someway _– he needed to know her answer.

"What?" she giggled, running her fingers along the groove of the smile plastered to his face … one he didn't have a care to release, _ever. _

"Cristina …," he sighed, moving her wild, dark hair away from her face, he heard her catch her breath. "Would you ever want to do something like that?" he asked softly, suddenly feeling like he could use something a whole lot stronger than wine.

"What … take a staycation?" she asked pointedly. He smiled and raised his brow. "We practically live across the street from _The Archfield_," she surmised gently.

Owen chuckled. "Not _there_ … but somewhere, you know …," he breathed, _'go away with me, marry me'_, he chanted softly, finding comfort in their private energy. He pressed his lips together; _'just ask her'_, he chided himself. He sighed and took a deep breath.

"Owen ... what?" she asked softly, her curiosity evident.

He chuckled and shook his head; then he found her eyes and spoke. "Outside of Meredith and Derek's wedding – _the real one_ – we've never gone anywhere together …," he reflected, his eyes never leaving hers.

"We work all the time," she agreed without hesitation. Owen moved his hand down from her shoulder to her forearm, anything to maintain some kind of physical connection.

"So … then … what do you say?" he asked softly, hopefully, _as if the rest of his life depended on her answer_ … and in many ways, it did.

"What do I say about what?" she asked – _her dark eyes flickering with some amount of recognition_ – a flash of _something_ deep coursed through her entire being and with that she_ –became her softer self right in front of his eyes, that small soft part of herself she saved just for him – _yeah … _she_ was here too. "What are you asking me?" she persisted; her voice so quiet, he knew her question was just for him too.

_And in that moment before Owen spoke another word, he felt certain the world stopped spinning – it was like a movie set all of a sudden – with the sound stage and the faux action of the scene (Joe's and all of the other nameless and faceless patrons, their clinking glasses and hushed conversations and the light music … all of it, gone now) as it bled out and away and into the background until all that was left was … the energy of them._

_He sighed and smiled – his heart raced inside of his chest – it sounded like raging bulls to him … raging fucking bulls! _

_He leaned in, resting his large hands on her thighs, making any attempt to steady himself. _

_He kissed her for a beat – tasting her sweet and salty mouth – she giggled against his lips before pulling back. _

_It was now or never – it was the moment, that perfect moment … and it couldn't have been more perfect – he smiled confidently. _

"Do you want to go on a trip … like _that_ … with me?" he asked, watching now as her eyes flickered … she blinked hard and found his unwavering gaze again. She leaned into their energy.

"_A Bahamas wedding style trip?"_ she breathed her question, her eyes became glassy.

"And …," he sighed, leaning into her heat. "A honeymoon trip," he whispered thickly into her ear, his damp, hot breath ricocheted back into his face as his words hung in the miniscule space between them. He found her eyes; she smiled.

She giggled. "Are you seriously asking me … _now_ … _here?_" she asked playfully, her dark eyes scanning his now.

"Yes," he muttered, pulling on her thighs, moving her even closer to his heat. He stood in between her knees now. He moved his hand up and ran his fingertips along the smooth plane of her cheek. He smiled weakly. "Look … I keep trying to find that perfect moment …," he sighed. "You're the perfect woman for me … _and I know it's not really your thing_ … but I have … I have this perfect, perfect ring …for you," he smiled, trying to get a read on her reaction and find himself in the glassy reflection of her eyes, his heart beating a million miles a second.

"You have … a ring," Cristina mused softly. "And life … life's not perfect," she offered. "And we're always working …," she sighed, trying to calm him without words, she rested her hands on top of his.

"We are … we _do_ … it's what we do …," he reflected. "It's how we … _operate_," he chuckled at his bad pun. "How we survive – _we work_ – even before we met, it's what we did," he said softly.

"We do … we did," she breathed, her voice catching again. Rare tears pooled in her eyes, he watched old pains try to resurface now until she quickly smiled them away. "But then one day an icicle fell … and then it melted, didn't it … Owen?" she asked, her eyes shining in dull light.

"It did … it really did Cristina," he agreed, leaning forward her took her lips in his mouth and kissed her senseless. She moaned slightly, the vibration traveled up and down their collective bodies. "Lets go …," he urged desperately against her lips, he saw the surprise in her eyes. "So … I can ask you properly," he whispered before he kissed her again.

She smiled. "By properly, you mean at home and in bed, right?" she teased, her dark eyes all of a sudden wild with happiness and amusement … a hint of mischief was there too.

_Owen smirked and in a flurry of movement and without a single word, the couple made to leave. He tossed some bills down on the bar – waving ceremoniously to Joe – who dutifully waved back. Cristina slipped her coat on, Owen pulled his stool back to let her hop off of hers and within less than a minute they were crossing over the threshold, stepping out together into the cold nighttime rain. _

_Cristina shrugged in defense of the cold, Owen draped his arm around her small frame before he laced his fingers through hers, tugging now, he urged her to walk out with him – or run rather – except that she was frozen … stuck in her same spot just outside the doorway where he stood just a bit ago watching the taxicab tail lights disappear. _

"Don't ask me again," she blurted out, her face wet from the rain, the green neon from the overhead sign, casting an eerie glow along her head and shoulders.

_His heart flipped inside of his chest. _

"Don't …," he stated, afraid to ask for the clarity he wasn't sure he wanted.

"No … I mean," she whispered, looking up and found his eyes where she cradled his wet face in her hands for a beat, holding him there, steadying his mind and heart. "I mean, the icicle melted … it's raining Owen … it's raining," she laughed, holding his skull. "Don't ask me again … just yes – _yes_ – my answer is already yes," she whispered above the rain, leaning up she pressed her wet lips over his.

"Oh," he chuckled against her lips. "Oh … thank God," he muttered breathlessly.

_His eyes locked on hers before his mouth descended up on hers where they kissed each other senseless, suddenly no more than teenagers making out upon swells of hormone surges. The sky opened up and the cold rain pelted down all around them now with no sign of letting up and in that rain, Owen only held Cristina – for the rain was theirs, nothing more than melted ice, icicles melted – and so he held on tight as they once again were reborn for one another … yeah, he held on tight with the intention of never letting her go. _

_Hands were everywhere, groping, caressing, loving before they found their more permanent places – his hands on the damp skin of her neck, hers holding on to his jacket collar – both lost and completely found at the same time._

_Nothing but raindrops between them now as Cristina leaned up and into him with more fervor – lapping, nipping, sucking and biting now – as if she had been deprived of a drink from his well. She moaned and Owen felt her heat rise under his lips and only then did he come to his senses … they needed to move and now!_

"I want you," he muttered, finally pulling himself away, barely away from her beautiful kisses.

"Me too … home … home, now …," she said into his mouth.

And with that the lovers pulled far enough away from one another and started to run across the street to their apartment – _the yellow glow of the hospital lights, their beacon of hope the backdrop for this defining moment _– as they ran as fast as their damp and tired and happy muscles would carry them.

Panting, Owen pulled the heavy glass door of their apartment building open and ushered Cristina inside. They headed straight for the elevators – _soaked to the bone, arms around one another, their damp heat following them like a whiff of passing energy now_ – water dripping _down, down, down_ from their crowns to their feet, leaving small puddle foot prints on the marble floors as they stepped over the elevator threshold.

The doors closed behind them and Owen wasted no time before he seized the private moment – _making it theirs as he gently backed Cristina up_ – pressing her between his towering presence and the back wall of the steel box. He held her there, pressing his hungry lips over her open mouth – _pumping furiously, suddenly starving for her_ – perhaps more now than ever before. And so it was with their lips still fused, that the couple began to undress one another – _textures of damp wool and leather and silk grazed their fingertips _– while humidity and fever-pricked passionate heat grazed their hearts and spirits.

_The elevator doors opened, the chime announced their arrival, two events barely noticed by the couple as they stumbled from the confines of their temporary enclave and into the deserted hallway, once again in favor of moving on and forward. Without missing a beat, Cristina snaked her hand inside Owen's jacket pocket, grabbing his keys she turned out of his embrace to focus on the front door lock. His lips found the damp skin of her neck, while his nimble fingers found the buttons of her silk blouse before his hands fell to her hips where they stayed for a beat … he was unable to resist pressing his iron-hard cock into her backside._

Cristina stifled a frustrated cry before she finally opened the door where they retreated inside with the heavy door closing behind them – _and suddenly all was quiet and dark and damp_ – their ragged breathing was all that could be heard over their raging hearts now as Owen wasted no time before he pinned her to the wall in the foyer, finally pushing her coat from her shoulders. Cristina pushed his damp leather jacket down – _it fell to the ground with a soaking wet thud, completely lost within one another, neither one made a move to retrieve it_ – leaving it be, Owen stepped out of his shoes, Cristina's went flying and they moved … once again, they moved on and forward, down the darkened hallway to their safe-haven, nothing but a trail of damp clothing left in their wake.

They were almost naked now; almost free from the confines of useless clothing – _Owen in his boxer briefs, Cristina in a lavender tank top and matching panties_ – they were nothing but turned on_. _Once over the one of the last thresholds of the evening, Cristina backed Owen up, step by step, kiss by kiss until they reached their bed – _he sat down, she stepped in between his open thighs_ – his lips already pressed against her taut abdomen muscles, kissing, sucking and nipping, already breathing her in, already relentless in his pursuit to taste her skin.

_He ran his warm hands upwards along her ribcage and slipped her tank top over her head before he attacked her breasts – covering her perfect trillion nipples with his mouth – tasting her sensitive flesh … suck, nip, flick, suck, nip, flick, flick … flick. Damn she tasted so good, he would surely never tire of the taste and feel of her puckered aroused flesh, he needed more … he would always need more! _

_All the while, her hands found his skull where she held on tight; guiding him – moving his mouth where she wanted him or needed him most – feeling her tremble as he brushed her silk-covered clit with his thumb, she fell into him, her breathing labored now as he massaged her powerful bundle of nerves, around and around and around he went – before he moved the thin piece of fabric aside to gain full access her tight pussy he loved so fucking much – instinctually he slipped his middle finger deep into her molten hole. God, she was so fucking wet, so turned on! He felt his cock lengthen in anticipation of what was sure to come._

_His mouth still massaging hers – he added another finger, pulsing now – Cristina rotated her hips over his fingers, gasping for air as he pulsed them to a beat of his own making while he lapped his tongue at her engorged peaks, latching his mouth over her whole breast, he took the flesh in his mouth, distracting her for a beat where he slipped her drenched panties down and away from his prize. Once free, Cristina took his wordless cue, kissed him hard and pushed him back against the mattress. _

_Keeping her eyes locked on his, she pulled his boxers down, releasing his rock hard cock. He watched his rod bob in the air – searching, sensing, searching for her warmth – Cristina leaned forward, positioning herself in between his knees now as she began to massage his cock and sack before she bent all the way down and took his sensitive head in her delicious mouth and sucked and licked and flicked and fucked his cock, fueling his fire, melting his core like no other woman before her!_

_Owen's muscle jumped in reaction, pulsing deeper into her throat for a beat before she released her oral hold, crawled up his legs and straddled him. With her eyes locked on his, she swept his ready cock along her soaking wet seam, swirling his head over her clit several times in rapid succession, her hips bucking at her own ministrations before anchored her perfect pussy over his ready cock, stretching herself to take all he had now as he pulsed upwards and into her endless depths where they met somewhere in the middle. _

"Oh … God … you feel so good," she muttered, leaning forward, her thighs against his, where she held him tight. She found his eyes. "Just like the first time … I'm … melting for you," she sighed breathlessly into his damp neck. Growling, he pulsed upwards, giving her more of what she wanted while she grabbed his cock with her muscles with each passing pulse. They matched each other with want and desire … _tenfold._

"Cris …," he husked, his hands found the flawless muscles of her backside where he held her down, still pulsing upwards with short, meaningful pulses – _carefully allowing the head of his cock slip outside of her barrier _– only to sink deep into her warmth again and again and again.

Cristina bucked her hips, leaning down and into his body – _she rode him like a wild stallion _– trying desperately to tame him with her perfect pussy. She pressed her hips down, her muscles covering him … _down, down, down_, she held him in the moment with her like there was no tomorrow. "Deeper," she pleaded in a tortured cry.

_On those words, he rolled her over, pinning her to the mattress, wasting no time before he gave her what she wanted … all of him and so much more. She opened her thighs and pussy wide to accept him until she – the very essence of her – was all that remained, she was all he could breathe, she was all he would ever want!_

"Deeper," he agreed thickly as he gently pounded into her where his eyes found her sparkling orbs – _glowing in the dark like she had a secret, white hot, passion-filled gateways_ – damn, she never looked more beautiful or flushed from their love-making. Never before had she looked so …intense and in the moment.

_Her hands flanked his skull now as she stared at him in the dark. She licked her dry, hot lips again before he kissed her mouth, stealing her breath with every strike of his tongue against hers, all the while he fucked her senseless without mercy. _

_Keeping his eyes trained on hers, he felt her legs encircle his waist, drawing him closer – deeper, deeper, deeper – her feet clasped tightly around his lower back just above his ass now as she bucked her hips up and back to meet each of his pulses. Up and back she went – trying her best to press her hooded clit against his pelvic bone now – trying to add pressure, trying to cum into him, she was close … and so was he. _

_Acknowledging her need for pressure, Owen leaned on one forearm – pulse, pulse, pulse – went his hips now as he snaked his free hand down to massage her hot, needy nub. Her vaginal walls wet nuts, cloaking him, savoring him, keeping him right where she wanted him for now and forever._

"Hmm … so close … harder," she muttered into the damp skin of his neck. He pressed his lips against clavicle, anchoring himself there, pulsing and pumping his rod into her flesh, swirling his thumb around her clit – _flick, flick_ – she grabbed him with her muscles again, the friction alone … it leveled him every single time.

"I'm …," his voice trailed off, literally dying in the air as the veins in his neck felt like they were gonna blow apart just like his cock, his body really wanted to let it all go – _but __he__ really wanted to avoid cumming for a beat longer_ – so he forced himself to stay in the moment … to stay with Cristina.

_For they never broke their gaze, not in intense moments such as these, it was like some unwritten rule – it was true, they were emotionally unavailable at times, they __were__ … in other aspects of their lives – but never here … never whilst embedded in one another, there just wasn't room for avoidance here, for they learned that early on._

_Owen's cock tightened and so did his sack, all of which provoked Cristina to roll her hips up until he pulsed deeper, deeper, deeper, bumping now against her cervix as he began to feel that all-too-familiar burst of animalistic energy as it ripped up his spine – relentless now in his struggle to control his faculties, he pounded into her still – long and hard, nice and deep, slip, slip, slip, in, out, in, out … in … and … out – until he had no choice but to relinquish control and succumb to the untamed power Cristina had over him. _

_The lovers growled in unison now as they came, nothing more than a guttural reminder of their connectivity, of their lack of avoidance and total and compete adoration of one another, a tribute of their cumming into one another – she drenched and clenched around him with her perfect pussy, while he filled her up with his seeds, twitching, giving, pulsing as he did – their sex wafted up and into the air all around them … yet another reminder that they had indeed 'melted' into their passion for one another… and that they were alive and well. _

_And that's where they stayed for a long while, muttering words of adoration and fulfillment and praise – surrounded by reminders of their passionate love for one another – soaking it in, 'melting' into one another …_

_Long after Owen's cock slipped from her core ..._

_Long after their ragged breathing normalized …_

_Long after their skin cooled down …_

_Yes, there they remained – with their minds on the future, their hearts aligned and their spirits flying high above them – they had truly become one … they had 'melted' into one another in every way: mind, body and spirit. _

Owen closed his eyes and brought Cristina flush up against his dewy flesh. "I love you," he whispered, emotion still lodged deep within his throat. He wanted to say more, but those words alone were … enough.

"I love you … I … do," Cristina sighed heavily, finally falling into his heat.

_And then all was quiet and dark – their hearts and minds now too – as they relaxed into one another and set themselves free to dream of the future – The Good Drs. Hunt, Dr. Cristina Yang-Hunt, Cristina … Cristina Hunt ... Cristina Yang – Owen smiled and took a deep breath of their arousal. Cristina sighed. And just as darkness was bleeding the day away … just before he crossed over to that very last threshold of the day, Owen heard his angel's melodic voice one last time, it was her soft voice – the voice of her softer self – yeah, she was still here. _

"_Owen,"_ she sighed, her voice quiet.

"Hmm," he muttered into her heat.

"_Can I have my ring? I think I'd like to wear it,"_ she whispered softly.

_Owen smiled and then opened his eyes, finding her in the dark briefly before he pulled on the drawer to his bedside table. He rolled back over and handed the box to her – she smiled and pressed her lips together – she rolled into him and burrowed deeper, he found her eyes again, noticing now that they were still sparkling, even in the dark_

_She hadn't even opened the box – and yet, her eyes were sparkling like she had a deep secret – sparkling now … like she had fallen in love and somewhere along the line … he knew she really did … 'melt' on the inside …just like he did. _

**Business Time – Part 6 – Derek Shepherd to follow. **


	6. Business Time, Derek Shepherd

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, et al. **

**Author's Note: Thanks again to those of you willing to comment on this story, it means a lot. I know several of you have been waiting for Derek's chapter, so … here you go (good things come to those who wait, I guess), so … let me hear from you on this part, please!**

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**Business Time – Part 6 – Derek Shepherd**

"Thanks," Derek said to the room service attendant with a tight smile.

He sighed, twirling his pen in his hand as he closed the door and surveyed the expansive suite again – _warm soothing tones of burgundy and camel, decorative swatches alternating throughout the space, nothing haphazard, absolutely everything was aesthetically pleasing … everything_ – from the mahogany wood furnishings to the sparkling travertine tiles, even the rich backdrop of the city skyline … _everything was perfect._ He heaved a sigh of relief and approached the small table where the young man had just set out the late night snack he ordered – _strawberries, exotic chocolate truffles, champagne, a selection of soft cheeses and crackers, black grapes, apples and honey_ – he pressed his lips together and placed a fat envelope on the table next to the champagne flutes.

He smiled then, secretly smitten over his clandestine plans – _spa treatments; surely Meredith would be surprised and as much as Derek wanted her all to himself, he knew she could us some pampering too_ – he looked up and his eyes fell on the twinkling skyline then – _the silent melody of lights soothed him for a beat_ – he crossed the small space and headed for the large sliding glass doors. Without thinking, his free hand fell to the small pocket of his pajama bottoms – _the ring, Meredith's ring_ _was still there, safe and sound _– and right where he felt it was five minutes ago. It was no secret, _to himself anyway_, that he had become maniacal about the ring within the last hour – _ever since he left Richard's_ – he just wanted to give Meredith this surprise, this one thing – _this symbol of their life together and his love for her_ – and for the blessing of their marriage and their children.

He stood behind the glass and stared at the expansive view of the city, a view not drastically different from Richard's – _perched high in the sky, towering above everything that moved beneath him_ – and then he smiled again – _he guessed Mark was right after all, they really could get lost up here_ – for it was here that he and Meredith would truly escape from that world and spend some time reconnecting, cherishing and remembering their vows to one another … _their anniversary … four years in the making. He truly was blessed_.

_A smile covered his face – even now – as a stock clip of Meredith walking barefoot towards him on the beach at their wedding raced in and out of his head … she was radiant in that moment. An invigorating shiver ripped up and down his spine when his mind careened to their erotic wedding night – peeling the white chiffon empire waist dress from her shoulders, the fabric cascading along the length of her exquisite body, pooling at her feet, the rosy pink tint of her cheeks as her green eyes held him captive – he sighed, even now he remembered thinking in that moment: she was truly a "blushing bride"._

And ever since that magical day, they really made time for one another – _there were small flecks of memorable moments; a dinner alone here, a lunch there, a lot late nights making love_– but true time alone had eluded them – _with two hectic careers and two beautifully demanding children_ – well, _uninterrupted _time was something of a blessing these days and they planned to make the most of it _and then some, _because they needed it.

_He needed this._

_(To do this for her.)_

_She needed this._

_(To do this with him)._

_They needed this._

_(To do this together.)_

Now even more than ever – _with lots of undefined change coming their way within the next eighteen months_ – it was no secret they needed this time to regroup, realign and reconnect.

Derek glanced at his watch; he estimated Meredith would arrive on the inside of fifteen minutes. He took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped outside and onto the covered patio there. The air was cold and damp. Unique, hot tufts of his breath twirled up and into the air all around him akin to strands of DNA. He shivered now, having already showered away the soot and mire from the truncated gentlemen's evening – _that cold, damp air was unforgiving against his warm skin_ – and the long sleeve Henley he just put on was hardly enough. The patio tiles were cold and wet and his damp locks stood on end and yet _– he wasn't entirely __cold__, he actually enjoyed the fresh organic air, it reminded him that he was close to home, it smelled like home _– with the salty air and the earthy particulates hanging in the humidity – _it felt refreshing and it was exactly what he needed at the moment _– it was like being on the ferry at the end of the day … _home, home, home was right around the corner, for Meredith was almost here._

With that thought, he took another couple of steps and held onto the metal railing before he felt for Meredith's ring again. He smiled at his ridiculousness _– he really wanted to see the look on her face, he loved to see her display of emotions, he just wanted to give the ring to her_ – especially after he added that _fifth_ hopeful stone just last week. Another shiver ripped up and down the full length of his body and a warm sensation of awe filled him up as his mind wandered to those cherished moments only a few weeks ago.

###

_Derek arrived home to the serene quiet their home had to offer at almost midnight – both of their girls were good sleepers – only ever up if they were sick. Meredith swore she could set her watch by them; they slept for twelve hours … exactly twelve hours. And Derek would be lying if he said he didn't secretly love that about them – such good little ones, he thought now as a smile covered his face. _

_He slipped his shoes and socks off in the mudroom and entered the kitchen. He hung his coat up, set his case down, grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator – noticing now that the new rattle coming from the appliance had only grown louder since the morning – he flipped the small dimmer down, the lights went off and he exited the kitchen, hoping Meredith was still awake so they could spend some time together. _

_He ascended the hardwood stairs, careful to avoid the creak in the middle of the fourth step as he went. He sighed, he'd had a busy day – a full docket of time in the OR plus transitioning to Richard's position … it was a process and it was painful at times. There were new people to answer to and to please – everyone wanted more from him and more of him – which of course he knew would be the case. For this was the bureaucracy he 'grew up' living … hell, he'd been a surgeon for almost twenty years – he knew what the job of a successful Chief of Surgery entailed … he just didn't want it to redefine him – he was a father and a husband first and not necessarily in that order._

_No, the order of things in his life was largely dependent on a moment by moment basis – and so, depending on __who__ was needed … that's who he was for the moment and it seemed to work. He had to compartmentalize his life somewhat, something he believed Richard did not do and somewhere along the line he failed, personally. He missed out. And so years ago, Derek promised himself that if it ever came to this – having a family and being Chief of Surgery – he wouldn't compromise Meredith or their children just to arrive at the pinnacle … the zenith of his career. Rather, he would be who he needed to be for that moment in time – focus on the task at hand – and make time for his family. Over the years, Derek had worked hard at proving to Meredith he was more than just a "taker" and despite her encouraging words and assurances that they would all be "fine" if he took this opportunity, he couldn't help but worry._

_Arriving at the top of the steps, Derek headed straight for Poppy's room – his monkey, his love-bug and everything in between – nudging the door with his elbow, he tiptoed inside, his feet sinking into her blushed carpet as he made his way across her room, spying her wild ebony locks peeking from her crib slots – her arms in a halo formation above her head, her palms facing up, her legs out straight – her breathing was easy, predictable … everything it should have been. She was carefree. She was perfect._

_He sighed with contentment and stared at her for a moment longer before he almost chuckled aloud … his baby was walking! Walking! Meredith's conflicted tone from her call earlier in the day funneled through his mind – she was frantic, yet proud, she was smitten, yet disappointed – their baby was growing up and there was nothing they could do to stop her! Nine months old … and already walking! Derek backed away from Poppy's crib – knowing better than to touch her – one touch and she would wake up and be ready to party – and so he took one last look at her perfectly flushed cheeks before he turned around and crept out of her room … unnoticed. _

_Down the darkened hallway he went – illuminated only by a nightlight in the shape of a firefly … a nightlight firefly, apparently something every girl needed! He smiled widely and shook his head – just one more stop, his ritual – this moment where he would 'linger' or as Meredith liked to call him, 'the lingerer' – but Derek didn't care, she could tease him all she wanted, but nothing wouldn't stop him from checking on Lily … from feeling the need breathe her in at the end of the day. He just had to – because she was his big girl, his first baby, his Lily – he stood just inside her doorway now, suddenly startled for the moment by the intrusion of her new furnishings – having just moved her into her "big girl bed" – he wasn't gonna lie, it was weird seeing a full blown bed in her room! He chuckled deep inside; both of his babies were growing up … and way too fast!_

_He stepped closer to Lily's bed, the guard rails up to keep her safe, he smiled as he took in her sleeping form – her tush pushed up and into the air, (she was a mover in her sleep, always had been) – her head to the side, her hands tucked underneath her small frame, her wild blonde locks covered her forehead. His heart pinched inside his chest. He was in love. Still. She was almost three, his heart swelled. Time was moving too fast! On that thought he set the bottles of water down on her dresser and crossed the room. Carefully he covered her tush with her blanket and stealthily pressed a small kiss to the crown of her precious head – feeling her baby soft hair beneath his lips – all the while breathing her in … ritually closing his day. _

_He closed his eyes. _

_Everything was right in the world, he counted to three. _

_He opened his eyes. _

_Backing away from his baby, he grabbed the water bottles and headed out of her room, leaving the safe-haven of that enclave … that special place that was unmatched by anywhere else on this earth. There was nothing quite like watching his children sleep – well … watching Meredith sleep was a close second – but the girls … it was another world entirely. He slipped from Lily's room, walking the short distance towards the last door he would pass through – dimly illuminated from the soft lighting found within – it was truly a beacon, coming home, crossing the threshold of the bedroom he shared with his wife … only then did he truly feel he was home. _

_He pushed the door open and peaked inside – his face softened when he spotted Meredith laying down on the chaise lounge in the far corner of the room. A medical journal lay across her chest; it rose and fell with her steady, even breathing. She was exhausted. And so was he. He smiled. He set the bottles down on his bedside table and crossed the room – a delicate balance of ecru and navy blue, soft satin sheets, deep plush carpet, quiet sconce lighting, just enough, there were no bright lights in their bedroom – everything was calm and peaceful._

_Derek stood over his woman now, his everything and took a private moment to "linger" once again – she was so comfortable; with a navy cashmere blanket draped loosely over her lower body, her perfect rosy complexion, the way her wild hair framed her face, the outline of her perfect nipples through the ecru silk camisole she wore – she was a vision, perfection. Derek carefully removed the medical journal and set it down on the glass top side table. He smiled and perched himself on the side of the chaise. Meredith reflexively rolled into his heat. He gathered her into his arms and pressed tiny kisses to her temple – he was finally home, home, home – he felt her relax into him. She smelled dewy, fresh and floral … she hadn't showered all that long ago. He looked down and watched as a small smile formed across her angelic face. She looked up to find him and that's when he saw them: red-rimmed, puffy eyes – green and beautiful nonetheless – but red and puffy too._

_His heart sank. She'd been crying._

"_Hi," he whispered, his voice cracked through the silence all around them, he moved his hand through her still-damp tresses. _

"_Hi," she whispered, returning the sentiment, letting her day officially close too._

_Her hands flew to his skull where they stayed, keeping him there. Her sudden intensity was halting. His heart trembled; he took a deep breath of their air while she made sure of him. She kissed him. She tasted of toothpaste. There was no doubt in his mind she'd been upset. He pumped his lips over hers again and again, where they became lost in one another for a beat, connecting, tasting … melting._

"_I missed you today," he confessed as he typically did when their schedules were disjointed and they didn't see each other at work._

"_And I missed you," she said, he found her eyes in the dim shadows – yes … she'd been upset, but she wasn't now – for bright flecks of gold glittered throughout her depths now … tiny trillions, both stunning and beautiful. _

_Yes … red and … puffy. But still … insanely beautiful. She blinked her fresh tears away, breathed in and released a deep sigh. He watched her emotions bubble to the surface. _

"_Something has you upset," he sighed, breaking through the silence again – asserting a statement, not a question – his hand still tangled in her hair, he cradled her neck and moved closer, nudging his nose gently against hers, prodding her, willing her to "spill all". _

"_Yes," she sighed, but abruptly sat up. "No actually … no …," she smiled sheepishly, still treasuring her secret. "I just realized … something …," she whispered and smiled a knowing smile. She found his eyes, reached up and ran her lithe fingertips along his hairline. He leaned into her touch. _

"_And what was that …," he encouraged with a wry grin. Meredith giggled. He kissed her minty lips, sweeping his tongue along hers._

"_Hmm," she sighed before she pressed her lips against his. She fisted his shirt, drawing him in. "That I want what you want … … what you've always wanted," she said softly, catching his eyes with hers, holding him captive again._

_He smiled. Lost within her gaze already. Her statement could have meant any number of things, except that it didn't. Derek knew exactly what she meant. His heart pounded against his chest – charging antelopes, leaping impalas … wild horses – her words funneled through his mind in a continuous loop, 'I want what you want'! Her face softened as she watched him work through his own emotions, bubbling … percolating now just like hers. New tears pricked his eyes. He blinked. So did she. Collective tears sprinkled their cheeks now._

"_You want another baby," he declared, so softly, so quietly, the wind could have carried his words away. He took a deep breath and tried to quiet his racing heart._

"_I do," she sighed, brushing his tears away with her gentle touch, the magical touch he fell in love with. He reached up and held her beautiful skull in his hands. _

"_Poppy's walking," he mused softly, assuming their baby's triumphant first steps were the catalyst for Meredith's realization._

"_She is," she mused with pride, before her eyes went wide. "But … that's not my reason … it was Callie actually …," she offered as an amused smile crossed her face._

"_Callie?" he prompted, kissing her lips._

_Meredith pulled back and smiled. "Yes … it was a few weeks ago …," she sighed, meeting his curious gaze. "You know that … little pouch?" she asked. Derek cocked his head and smiled, he knew exactly what she was talking about. "That little 'band of baby' that shows up at first, right along here," she elaborated, resting her hand low along her belly._

"_Hmm, yeah …," Derek smiled, looking down at Meredith's hand. He rested his on top of hers for a beat. "It's softer … fuller," he said thoughtfully with recollection, he met her gaze again. "So … tell me," he encouraged._

_Meredith took Derek's hand and laced her fingers through his. She kept her eyes locked with his. "Callie went up a size in her scrubs," she sighed wistfully with a weak smile. "And I was with her, you know – when she realized – and the thing is …," her voice trailed off. She closed her eyes for a split-second before she opened them again. "I … at first nothing crossed my mind, I mean … but then …," she lost her words but kept her eyes locked with Derek's. _

"_It hit you__ …," he prompted gently, keeping a watchful eye on those gold flecks._

"_No … not at first …it wasn't until after she left the locker room …," she smiled and shook her head. "She left and I found my hand here – rubbing, you know – expecting something … perhaps longing __someone__ to be there," she whispered, her voice cracked with emotion. Tears stung Derek's eyes; just the thought of another baby was … almost too much._

"_Come here," he coaxed, drawing her near, closing the miniscule distance between them. "Come here," he whispered as he kissed his wife, the woman of his dreams – pumping his breathless kisses over her mouth until he felt her submit – until he felt her relax into the moment. "I love you," he managed to say as he pulled back and took a good look at her._

"_I love you too," she whispered against his mouth. "So much … so much," she said before she pulsed her lips over his again._

"_So this was a few weeks ago … why … why didn't you say anything? "Derek asked;, his head spinning with the prospect of bringing another baby into their family … into their world. He pressed his lips together and watched his beautiful wife._

"_Because … I did something instead … to test myself," she sighed with a smile. Derek leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her swollen lips. _

"_What did you do?" he asked, moving his lips down to her neck._

_Meredith craned her head back, he pressed tiny wet kisses to her neck and chest, dipping his mouth lower, pressing his lips and tongue to her breasts and nipples through her camisole. She moaned into the air, encouraging his ministrations. He watched her skin react to his touch – hardened peaks of pleasure formed, crystallized nerves just aching to be suckled – damn, he wanted her! He rested his chin on his hands – his thumbs brushing along her engorged peaks now – as he looked up and into her watchful eyes._

"_I didn't pick up my pills at the end of my last cycle …I went off the pill, Derek …," she confessed softly, watching for his first reaction. _

_Derek smiled. He watched Meredith's cheeks blush. She smiled._

"_I figured we had those fourteen days or so until I really had to __know__ … before … you know, I just wanted to test myself and now …," she breathed. "Now we're at the point of no return … I'm …," she sighed nervously._

"_Ovulating …," he prompted hopefully, quickly performing some mental acrobatics, he confirmed it was … business time. He smiled widely._

"_Hmm, yes," she sighed. "I wanted to be sure because a lot's gonna change Derek – in eighteen months, you'll be the Chief and I don't want anything to stand in your way – and so when I got to thinking … I vacillated," she confessed hurriedly, her eyes swept his, back and forth. He pressed his lips together and waited for her to continue. "I'll admit that much ...I wasn't sure … I just …," she sighed in frustration, trying to verbalize her concerns for the first time out loud._

_Derek pressed a kiss to Meredith's lips – a long, breathtaking kiss – one he hoped would quell her fears because this is what he was worried about – this idea that in order to be the Chief of Surgery, their home life would cease to exist – it was this very idea that kept him up at night! He didn't believe his career alone should drive these decisions – she had a career too – and in that moment he once again felt worried that Meredith might give up too much … she was a giver, a perpetual giver in every way and sometimes to her detriment. He just didn't want her to live with regret. And even though it was no secret that he had always wanted plenty of children, their discussions on the topic always concluded the same way: Meredith would take the lead on the number of Shepherd babies to grace this world. He wanted what she wanted; it was as simple as that._

_He was thrilled when they had Lily._

_Over the moon when Poppy arrived. _

_He was more than fulfilled by their girls. _

_Derek pulled away, nipping at Meredith's lips once more before he caught her wild eyes, now alive with passion – where he held her captive for a beat – checking on her, making sure of her this time._

_The lovers were breathless, the heat between them permeated the air all around them and all of a sudden … Derek was drunk, drunk on his love for Meredith and their children. He smiled into her eyes, telling her as much without words. He was happy – he wanted what she wanted – he would be happy either way and live without regret. The choice was still hers._

"_Meredith …," he sighed, leaning into her heat. "How do you feel now … are you still vacillating?" he whispered, peering down, taking in the sparkle in her eyes – those flecks of gold – and how they danced and sparkled in the dim sconce lighting. She turned into him, sitting up a little bit as she rotated. _

"_Well …no … I'm ovulating," she teased with a bright smile before she sighed. "We have eighteen months," she sighed again, flanking his skull with her hands. "If we start trying now …," she smiled, letting him know her answer in no uncertain terms. "The baby could be seven or eight months old by the time you're Chief …," she calculated out loud. Derek smiled widely and his heart soared. Meredith's cheeks blushed, beautifully rosy within seconds._

"_And the pregnancy and late sleepless nights will be over – all the hard stuff – we can still do … together," he sighed, tears stung his eyes … another baby and just like that, they were "trying". _

"_Exactly," Meredith murmured. She plucked his lips with hers before she pulled back. "So …," she sighed breathlessly, staring intensely into his gateways now. "Will you make another beautiful baby with me?" she asked softly, so sincerely, so genuinely he fell in love with her all over again._

"_Your wish is my command," he husked against her lips and she giggled at his lame joke, before he wasted no time, deepening their kiss, massaging her tongue with his, lapping, nipping and sucking on her lips as tears of joy pricked his eyes. "I love you, so much," he said into her ear before he tugged on her earlobe, brushing his tongue against her soft flesh there, something that drove her crazy._

_She squirmed under his touch, kissing his mouth, neck and ears – their urgency for one another growing exponentially within seconds – for the intense emotions of the night and their inherent eagerness for one another would get the better of them … and soon, not that either one would complain._

_Meredith's hands found his belt buckle where she stealthily worked it open, pulling his shirttails out in the process. Derek leaned back – taking a good look at his beautiful woman – he smirked, stood up and held his hand out for her. She was standing up in an instant, her mouth on his as she unbuttoned his shirt with her nimble fingers._

_And so there they were – once again making their pilgrimage to their marriage bed – thoughts of conception filling their minds as they stumbled backwards, never moving their lips from one another now as Meredith continued to undress Derek while he caressed her baby soft skin, dipping his fingertips under the shoulder straps of her camisole, allowing the silky fabric to fall to her waist. His hands found her breasts where he held them for a beat, testing their weight, rolling her perfectly taut nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers. Meredith deepened their kiss in response, lapping and sucking on Derek's tongue. God, he wanted to taste her flesh, he wanted to lose himself in her … for there was truly nothing like it! _

_Meredith sat down on the edge of the bed and Derek stepped between her legs as she finished with his buttons. She looked up and he tossed his shirt to the ground, his undershirt was next. Her hands found his bare chest and her soft lips found his abdomen – nipping at his flesh, darting her tongue out for a taste now – before she moved her way down and pulled his boxers over his ass, releasing his cock into her capable hands. Derek watched her smile in appreciation before she took him fully into her mouth – massaging his cock into a hardened shaft of nerves in no time, eagerly sucking, moaning, nipping and swirling her fantastic mouth and tongue up and down his length – the room literally spun, he could have been standing over her for mere seconds or minutes … he had no idea and he didn't care because sometimes time itself fell away when Meredith had her mouth around his cock._

_Derek moaned into the air above them, damn, she felt good! His legs buckled and he felt her firmly press one hand on his ass, gently holding him in place as she sucked and swirled and sucked, while she caressed his sack with her other hand, gently rolling his nerves in her palm. Derek shuddered to her touch as the furious crescendo of his orgasm began to rise – he was losing it and normally he wouldn't care, normally he would consider it 'round one' – but now that they were officially 'trying' … he felt a feral need to cum into and with his beloved wife._

_So somewhere in the fog of ecstasy … he quickly he kicked his pants off and reluctantly pulled his cock from the warm depths of her mouth._

_Somewhere in the fog of ecstasy … he heard her whine in protest before he lay her on the bed, pressing loving kisses all over her bountiful skin – plucking her ripe nipples, perfectly round and ripe, suck, suck, nip, swirl, swirl – she tasted fresh and clean and familiar, her hands went to his skull._

_Somehow in the fog of ecstasy … Derek managed to raise his head and hover over Meredith for a beat where he locked her wild eyes with his before he pulled her camisole and panties down her long lean legs._

_And that was that – without another thought or word they were in bed, willingly trapped within that thick fog of ecstasy – caressing, loving, rubbing and embracing their connection and familiarity for now and for all time._

"_I want what you want," Derek said softly as he pulled back for a beat and smiled – their energy was everywhere, popping, bouncing, exploding, something he felt every time they made love – but somehow when there was the intention of making a baby, a new element of beauty was added. He noticed this before – how this idea of creation suffused them to one another – it slowed them down, made them take their time and … cherish one another._

_Derek's heart stilled even though it raged on, navigating, forging its path within the fog of passion and ecstasy – yes … both Lily and Poppy were born of a cherished moment – and this baby, this work of art, would be no different._

"_Derek," Meredith sighed, taking his skull into her hands, he draped his thigh over hers and perched himself up on his elbow. "I love you …another baby …can you believe it …," she sighed from within the bottleneck of her emotion. Her eyes were glassy. "I want another baby," she giggled breathlessly, her eyes shining in the dim light, flecks of gold, sparkling … still sparkling, the most glorious sparkle. _

"_Me too, me too …," he said, leaning down, he kissed her, his free hand traveling along her ribcage, then to the underside of her breasts. He felt Meredith suck in a deep breath and that was all it took._

_His mouth found her nipples and her hands found his skull as he tenaciously went to work, teasing, rubbing, sucking and massaging her flesh and nerves and everything in between. He could feel the heat from her pussy radiating up and all around them – he pressed his steel rod along her thigh before he felt her fist around him there. He moaned into her mouth and she rolled into his heat._

"_Take me," she sighed into his neck, draping her thigh over his hip, the heat from her core drew him in, his cock banged and bobbed for entry at her heavenly gates. "Feel me …," she husked, moving his hand between them, she pressed his fingers over her slick clit. She was hot, soaked and hot and ready and waiting._

"_Oh God," he husked, sucking on her earlobe, massaging her lobe and clit with the same circular movements. She bucked her hips up causing his finger to slip beyond the precious nerves of her folds. He pumped her pussy for a beat; his hand was drenched with her thick sex in seconds. "Hmm, so damn hot …," he husked, pulling his fingers from her._

_Wasting no more time – Derek hovered over his woman, his wife, his everything – 'take me, I'm yours', came her voice again, her hands found his skull, she raised her hips and brushed her pliant seam against his cock – allowing his sensitive head to penetrate her folds – up and down, down and up, she bucked her hips, her legs encircling his waist now. He ducked down, penetrating deeper, feasting on her fleshy breasts as she opened her legs wide and accepted all he had to give and then some. _

_The lovers moaned – her slick pussy swallowed him whole, guiding him in as Derek filled her up – and then the world as they knew it stopped spinning. And for that moment in time – nerves encircled nerves, muscles encapsulated muscles, skin stretched around skin – there was nothing left … nothing but the stunning fog of ecstasy and the beautiful synergy of them. _

_The Shepherds. The sum of the parts. Cervix to cock. Creator to creator. Sperm to egg. The parts of the whole. The Shepherds. _

_As Derek began to move inside of Meredith, the couple became everything to one another once again – eyes remained locked, gazes were fixed, nothing could separate them from their task of creation – he moved her hands above her head and pinned her there, she raised her hips, pulsing her clit against his pelvic bone, her muscles tightened around him and he heard her whine with pleasure. Derek ducked down and struck her wild nipples with his mouth, her breasts moving targets now as he pulsed his cock into her depths over and over again, his tempo … nice and easy, long and hard. Her muscles constricted – she was close, so close – and so was he!_

"_I want to cum with you …," Meredith whined, he watched her reach down and massage her clit; she lunged up and captured his mouth with hers where she latched on, kissing him senseless. He felt her open her legs wider to raise her hips up and into his pulses. He felt her fingers rub along his rod as she worked her swollen clit while he tenaciously plunged in and out of her endless well, her sex intoxicated him, for it was the air he breathed. Meredith whined and rubbed her fat nub, her fingers brushing along his slick shaft as she went– they were completely lubricated and turned on; he was hard, she was pliant – they were in perfect harmony._

_Derek's lips were attached to Meredith's ear where he continually uttered words of adoration and love and awe, he was lost, so lost in the fog, all semblance of time was gone and the world ceased to exist! There was only Meredith and her beautiful pussy and her wild, impassioned eyes and the intoxicating taste of her skin – her muscles clenched around him, hard, fast – and the fog was temporarily lifted when he suddenly became aware of her gasps and intense whines of pleasure. Pulling his mouth from her flesh, he looked down for a beat – and only then was he truly mesmerized – watching his cock sink and reappear, sink and reappear while Meredith's hand moved faster, still manipulating her clit … her eyes also fixated on their machine. God, she was beautiful, her face flushed, her intensity jarring, damn, she was hot!_

_His pulses matched her strokes. _

_There was precision._

_Her strokes matched his pulses. _

_There was creation. _

"_Hmm, that's so hot…watching you, watching us … so hot … you feel … so good," he said thickly. Meredith flicked her clit; Derek grew harder._

"_Hmm, so hot – hmm, I love you – I'm so … close, oh, oh …," she breathed; her words hung in the air, barely inaudible. Her muscles clenched. Her hand moved even faster. "Oh God … yes … Derek …," she sang breathlessly, her voice was so raw … so angelic, it was something of another world for sure._

_Derek gently pounded into her now, his head submersed deep within the fog again, chanting her name like some kind of religious mantra – and maybe it was, maybe she was – his abdomen came down on her hand now as she worked tirelessly to climax precisely when he did – a furious culmination to create with and around one another – to plant seeds, to cultivate a life …of them._

_His orgasm grew and grew and grew, his ass muscles clenched. Meredith yelped as he slammed into her. Derek closed his eyes, her muscles went wild, systematically clenching, pulsing, milking him for all he had now – collecting his seeds, keeping them, holding them – and using them. She rolled her hips up and back; her hands found his skull._

_Their eyes found one another as they silently honored one another, cherishing the moment with a kiss upon a kiss upon a kiss – 'I love you, so much, so much, I love you, I love you' – they said in between twirling tongues and smacking lips – 'I love you' – they said simply and breathlessly over and over again on the hope and dream of creating yet another Shepherd baby. _

_Meredith clasped her feet low around Derek's back, holding him there. His cock began to soften and the familiar sweet essence of their sex wafted up and into the air all around them. Derek pulsed his lips over Meredith's as they opened their mouths to one another again – where their tongues danced lazily with one another like they had all the time in the world, slowly, languidly allowing their body heat to become more even-tempered – while their hearts raged on with untamed love and acceptance and ownership and hope that would never, ever wane._

_And so it was there that they stayed; basking in the glow of what would become the first of many beautiful, connective attempts over the next few hours to conceive of the power of them for a … third wondrous time._

###

The fog of ecstasy cleared and Derek smiled now on the not-so-distant memory – _they were blessed, right here, right now_ – they were blessed, they had everything they needed. Both Lily and Poppy added sunlight where there was darkness – _the love that he and Meredith had for them_ – well, it truly was limitless and adding another little Shepherd to love and cherish would only strengthen their family and Derek couldn't wait. His chest expanded and he inhaled a deep breath of the fresh, cool air – _salty, organic, raw and heavy_ – yes, it was just like home and on that thought, Derek heard movement from behind him. He smiled and turned around, completely in awe of his wife.

_For there she stood in the doorway – cascades of her blond hair moving in the wind, her alabaster skin glowing against the dim light cast off from the overcast skies above, her deep purple robes open and flowing all around her, the swell of her lace-covered breasts visible beneath her teddy of the same color … her panties … there were no panties – his heart gave out and he smiled at her bravado and sensual appeal and found his cock lengthening by the millisecond as he stood perfectly still and steadied himself against the cold metal railing. She was radiant; she smiled like she had a secret._

"Wow," he breathed. Meredith smiled and twirled around for him; her robes swept up and revealed her perfectly toned derrière. "Wow," he muttered again and this time he willed himself to move.

Meredith giggled and in an instant he was upon her and they were inside their enclave within seconds. His mouth latched on hers without missing a beat – _her lips were warm, her tongue moved against his, she tasted of peppermint _– he deepened their kiss, pulling her body to his, feeling the billowy silk move through his fingers as it breezed across her skin … the dual sensation was nothing short of divine.

"Hmm, can you believe we're here?" she asked breathlessly, catching his eyes with hers.

_He chuckled and planted his lips along the column of her regal neck, her flesh was warm, her heat was surreal – no, he could hardly believe she wasn't a figment of his imagination – still after all these years … life with Meredith was like some kind of dream._

"You're amazing," Derek sighed, holding her close, his heart skipped a beat. "How long have you been here?" he asked into her ear. "And don't tell me you wore this on the ferry," he teased, running his hand along opening to her robe, brushing his fingertips along her bare thigh … moving higher and higher now, he brushed his knuckles along her mound, pressing one finger along her damp seam.

"About five minutes ago," she managed to say into his chest before she looked up and found his unwavering gaze; her eyes sparkled with mischief. He smiled and kissed her perfectly plump lips.

"Hmm, you're beautiful," he murmured sincerely, his heart raced … _four years, four years and he still couldn't imagine a day on this earth without her._ "I have something for you," he whispered.

Meredith smiled brightly. "You mean besides the late night snack?" she teased. "Who were you expecting … besides me?" she prodded.

"Oh, you're enough for me … that's for after," he smiled slyly, pulling back. "After I work you out," he teased, slipping his fingers along the underside of her lacy teddy. "Hmm … it's business time," he said thickly, smiling like the devil inside.

Meredith threw her head back with laughter. His lips found her neck where he sucked her flesh, just over her pulse _– lips to lifeline, pulse, lifeline to lips _– Meredith righted herself and found Derek's eyes. Turning out of his arms, she took a couple of steps toward the buffet of delicacies, Derek chuckled and followed suit. She popped a black grape into her mouth; his hands found her waist. She ran her fingertips across the top of the linen envelope there.

"What's this?" she asked softly. His lips found her neck.

"Another surprise for you," he answered. She found his heat.

"I have something for you too … can I go first?" she asked softly, lacing her fingers through his as she turned around. She reached up and kissed the underside of his neck.

"Ladies first," he smiled brilliantly, stealthily checking his pocket with his free hand. Her ring was safe and sound and almost … _hers._

_Meredith took the lead, navigating through the expansive space and headed to the master suite – dim lighting, soft tones, deep mahogany furnishings – infiltrated their senses once inside. Maintaining her hold on Derek's hand, she led him to the doorway of the large marble-tiled bathroom where she abruptly stopped – Derek peeked inside, half expecting to see a bath with candles or some other romantic gesture – but alas, he didn't see anything. Meredith took his hand and ushered him inside. She approached the vanity and turned around with something in her hand. Her mischievous smile was back and it was all Derek could focus on before he looked down and his heart stopped._

"Is that …," Derek sighed, reaching out for the small device, his heart caught on fire.

"I took it when I got here," she whispered, coming closer. She held it up. "It's blue Derek …good and blue," she said, her eyes glassy, she pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

His warm hand found her belly where it stayed. Fat tears pricked his eyes. "Another beautiful baby … baby … I love you," he whispered against her lips, pulsing, kissing, smacking, melting into one another now.

"And I love you … so much … so much," she replied as he folded her into his arms, cherishing her, breathing her in… the mother of his children and oh so much more.

_From that moment on they were wrapped around one another – arms around arms, thighs brushing thighs, fingertips to fingertips – while they moved from the bathroom toward the large bed in the center of the room. Meredith found Derek's eyes in the dim light; the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed where he knelt down in front of her. Moving her silky robes aside, his hands found her naked hips and his lips found her belly, just above her mound. He kissed her flesh – silently connecting with the baby, 'hi baby, we love you already' – peppering soft kisses now, barely there kisses until he felt Meredith tremble in his arms. Her hands found the nape of his neck and she laced her fingers through his ebony locks where she held him in place. She shivered from his touch and her essence suddenly filled the room._

_In an attempt to stand before her – Derek blinked his waiting tears of joy away and took a deep breath of Meredith's earthy arousal – kissing her belly once more now before he began to lap and suck and nip on her supple flesh. Finally he gave up on standing all together and settled on resting his forearms along her silky thighs. He looked up and met her gaze – her face was flushed, she was heated, tickled pink and more desirous than he ever remembered – he smiled and leaned back on his heels for a beat in an effort to stave off his innate craving to devour her on the spot – she was that hot – she giggled and moved her hand down to the waistband of his pajama bottoms before her hands flanked his head and she held him there in the moment with her. _

"Meredith," he said breathlessly, carefully retrieving her ring from his pocket. He held the delicate ring up between his thumb and pointer fingers. "This is for you," he whispered, holding the work of art up and into the dim light between them.

"Derek," Meredith said, her breath caught before she could say more. She blushed. "Derek," she repeated, leaning forward, gravitating into his heat. She kissed his beautiful lips; her eyes became glassy.

_Meredith ran her finger along the beautiful collection of wire-thin stacked rings. Each unique white gold ring was woven with intricate pave inset diamonds – a small colored birthstone was situated amidst each band – the facets of the small diamonds complemented the brighter colored birthstones, adding a magical element to their inherent beauty. The rings were almost too beautiful to look at, this was Derek's summation ever since he picked the assembly up – to him, this was symbol of who they were and who they would become – it was a tribute of sorts – a collection of their worth, their weight – their family. In some ways the rings defined his love for everything Meredith had given him and all that was yet to come; it was their present and their future and he hoped she would wear it forever. Derek looked up from the ring when he heard Meredith sniffle. He found her shining eyes. _

"Oh Meredith," he sighed, his heart pinched with love. "I love you," he sighed, raising himself up so he was at eye level with her. He moved her hair away from her face, her skin was soft and warm and inviting.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him, lunging into his mouth, as desperate for their connection as he. "There's five," she cried softly, his heart pinched again. "Five," she sighed against his lips. "Thank you …," she heaved, opening her mouth to him, sweeping her tongue along his, lapping and lapping and lapping before she pulled back and giggled happily.

"I'm so proud of you …," Derek sighed, taking in the sight of his gorgeous, fulfilled and happy woman. "See this … _this_ is a ring you can wear all the time …," he murmured, acknowledging her habit of wearing her more sizable engagement ring only on special occasions.

"Hmm, it's … perfect … perfect," she giggled through a fresh set of joyful tears.

"May I?" he asked, taking the ring, he set it over the nail bed of her left index finger. He looked up and Meredith nodded happily. He chuckled and slipped it on; setting it flush against the small gold wedding band she never took off. "See this," he said, sweeping his fingers along the four colorful stones set inside the outer rings. "They are our birthstones," he whispered. "See …," he choked out. "I thought to add this one last week – _this diamond in set in the middle ring_ – it was for the dream of another …," he sighed, kissing his wife's wet cheeks before his mouth covered hers for another all-consuming kiss.

"It's a dream come true already Derek," Meredith breathed against his mouth. "I love it … and you … you're the best thing that ever happened to me –,"

"And so are you to me … so are you to me," Derek sighed, enveloping Meredith in his arms, holding her tight, relief consuming him – _the ring was hers, the dream was theirs – _everything was exactly how it should be.

Already lost within her heat, Derek slipped her silky robe away from her shoulders and kissed her bare flesh, then moved his lips to her neck, capturing her earlobe, swirling his tongue there, tasting her sweet skin.

"Derek," Meredith sighed, she took his hand and moved it in between her legs. "Make love to me," she whispered against his mouth. "Like we have all the time in the world," she added, moving her hands underneath his shirt before she lifted it over his head.

_Wordlessly, Derek gently ran his fingertips under the hem of Meredith's teddy, brushing his hand along her belly as he did. She let the silky fabric of her robes fall away before Derek leaned up and kissed her lips, he leaned in and over her so she had no choice but to lay her head back on the bed. Derek dipped himself lower and kissed Meredith's lips and neck – her chest heaved – he gently ran his tongue over her lace-covered nipples, nipping at the pleasure points, tenderly rubbing the silky fabric over them, watching the rise and fall of her chest … her breathing labored now as her sex wafted up and mingled with their erotic fog. He was trapped by her hold over him – pulling down the lacy fabric down with his teeth to pluck her nipple – he inhaled her. Her essence suffocated him. He was lost, deep within the trenches of her swelling flesh now. _

_Unable to take it any longer, Derek swiftly moved her calves over his shoulders and settled himself at the apex of her perfectly trimmed womanhood. He took a deep breath, his mouth watered. Resting his head on her thigh now, Derek ran his pointer finger along her damp, inviting seam – up and down he went – focusing now on the small pulses he could see rippling through her tiny frame. Damn, he loved that he could do that to her – make her writhe with pleasure, make her want him and want to cum – he looked up to see her pull the teddy over her head and toss it aside, her hands found the rolling flesh of her breasts. Derek reluctantly turned away, focusing once again on his wife's ripe and ready pussy – gently parting her folds, he revealed her bright pink center, watching and waiting for her clit – that tiny beautiful nub he loved so much – to announce itself … to pop, to scream for attention!_

"Damn, you're beautiful," he husked as he came closer to her opening – _his hot breath ricocheted back carrying with it her intoxicating sex_ – he gently held her folds back, all the while watching her clit pulse – _his mouth watered again, Meredith whinnied above him, rotating her hips up as she did _– her hands found his skull where they stayed, she fisted his locks.

"Put your mouth on me …suck me … take me," she pleaded into the air above them – _her cry hung in the thick night are akin to a sensual catcall_ – and just like that, the lovers were suspended in time … connected unto one another under that thick fog of ecstasy they came to love so much.

_Derek raised his head and Meredith planted her feet flat on his shoulders without missing a beat. Her pussy pulsed – glistening in the dim light, pulsing with raw need, aching for his touch, his cock lengthened, his stomach muscled tightened – her essence was warm and rich divine and stifling in the most delicious of ways. _

_He could wait no longer (and by the sounds of her, neither could she) and with that, Derek pressed Meredith's slick folds back with his thumbs and closed his whole mouth over her soaked opening – her sex was abundant – she tasted sweet and salty and familiar. He pulled back for a beat only to lunge forward again and run his tongue over her juicy seam, penetrating his tongue a little deeper with each passing sweep. He heard Meredith's warbled call of appreciation, her muscles tightened around his tongue – grasping for him – holding on tight whenever possible._

"Hmm, I love this … I can't get enough of you," he muttered into her sweet hole. Meredith whined and opened her legs wider, pulsing up and into Derek's mouth.

_Drenching him now as a small orgasm rocked her frame – he drank her down – allowing her sweet elixir to funnel down his throat, which only to heartened his innate hunger for her– for he was in survival mode, like a starved pig at a trough –as he lapped and nipped and sucked on her plump folds, feasting now as if was his last meal!_

_Her sex was everywhere now as he latched onto her opening, sucking her off, siphoning her well before he slipped one, then two fingers into her warm, wet depths and began to vigorously pump her well – generating yet another swell and release of her sex – her muscles tightened, she was more than close to another orgasm … the ripple-effect; it was nothing short of divine, for both of them._

_Meredith's cries filled the air and his mind as he felt her stomach muscles clench – she grabbed his skull, trying desperately to move his mouth up to her clit – he pulled back for a split-second then … her precious nub was filled with blood, bright pink and totally exposed. Derek leaned in and nudged it with his nose, breathing in her damp, sweet heat for a beat before he began to swirl her flesh around and around with his tongue… pushing it … rubbing it … sucking it and fucking it over and over and over again until Meredith was writhing out of control and positively begging for more!_

"Sweet Jesus … Derek … Derek …," she breathed heavily.

_Derek gently pulled on her clit with his lips before he released it – flicking it now with his tongue, fucking her with his fingers – flick, flick, flick, flick, back and forth, back and forth he went before he once again closed his whole mouth over her glorious pussy and drank her down as she came yet again!_

_Within seconds of her release, he felt her relax all around his mouth – the systematic clenching of her muscles slowed down as Derek gathered his faculties – gently swirling his tongue along her tired nerves, massaging her nerves, French-kissing her beautiful pussy… making love to her, slow and easy, just how she wanted him to._

Her knees fell open and Derek moved his mouth away – _pressing tiny, wet kisses to her hipbones_ – then to her ribs, over her breasts and aroused nipples. He watched Meredith release the bed linens from her fists. She smoothed the fabric down and opened her eyes. She was flushed. She smiled.

"I need you," she breathed, her words caught in her throat. Her eyes were shimmering with emotion.

Derek only smiled and kissed her full lips. "I need you too," he replied, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Her hands found the tie of his pajamas and before he knew it … his cock was _hers._

Meredith fisted him then, wasting no time in claiming him – _the friction she created was so intense sometimes_ – Derek's body reacted like a trained animal, he was defenseless against her prowess, much like she was against his power over her. He bellowed into her neck, aching for more of her – _his appreciation, evident, his cock hard and ready for quite some time now_ – as she swept her thumb over his opening before she palmed his sack – _expertly massaging him_ – his hips flexed and rose off the bed in response – _he was hers to own, to have her way with _– yes, it was more than true, his need for her was truly indescribable!

Taking the lead, she rolled over and straddled Derek, pulsing her hot pussy over his rod – _he kicked his pajama bottoms down_ – raising his knees and hips to free himself of the last of the excess fabric – _Meredith held on tight and leaned forward –_ her sharp nipples cut across his chest, ah … skin on skin, there was nothing quite like it!

Derek ducked his head down and captured one of her rosy peaks in his mouth, flicking her tasty flesh with his tongue rapid-fire style now; her nub was hard … her nerves were on high alert! Her mouth came down hard on his – _the heat from her core permeated the miniscule space between them _– undulated heat waves coursed through his every vein … his nerve-endings … his every muscle … his every pore!

Reaching down, Meredith took hold of his cock, rubbing his sensitive head in a small circular pattern over her well-stimulated clit – _Derek watched his head penetrate her folds, clit, folds, clit, folds, hot, hot, hot _– he timed the movement of his hips with her pace now, knowing in mere seconds she would submit.

Intent on getting her off, Derek reached down and rubbed Meredith's wet clit with his thumb – _tiny circles now, her moved her flesh, brushing it up and down_– her eyes bore into his and she stifled some kind of animalistic moan in response, before she leaned forward and lapped his mouth with hers. He made love to her mouth with his tongue then, matching the rhythm he set forth with his thumb on her clit – _around and around he went_ – Meredith trembled above him.

"Now," she sighed breathlessly into his mouth, her lips coming down on his shoulder as she positioned his cock at her opening before she raised herself up again and slowly sank onto his steel rod – _her flesh stretching around him, her nerves reacting to him_ – covering him like a handmade glove, keeping him all to herself now.

"Hmm, now's good," Derek muttered, keeping a watchful eye on Meredith, her head lolling back, swaying from side to side as she rode him now – _nice and slow, up and down, up and down_ – covering his sheath with her muscles over and over and over again.

_She expertly rotated her hips now – her skin was flushed, the dim light offered short shadows of depth, her supple skin was covered with dew, her tresses were wild, her beautiful eyes were closed, her breasts swung with her movements – she was a vision … she was his … everything! _

_Opening her eyes, she found Derek's – she held him there, inside that damp, hot moment – her eyes never leaving his, she smiled and fucked him hard and fast for a moment – she pulsed with precision – her body rose, freeing his cock, only to slam down and over him again and again before she lunged forward and found his mouth, swirling her tongue along his, kiss, fuck, swirl … fuck, fuck, fuck!_

"Derek … deeper …," she cried breathlessly into their heat.

_Derek rolled her over; still lost within her eyes, the dim light softened her features even more and if possible … made her even more beautiful – she was glowing, she was pregnant … they were blessed – tears stung his eyes. She smiled as her hands found his skull. _

"I love you," he whispered against her lips, his breathing stacked – _she literally took his breath away_ – he ran his tongue along her lips, his body humming, she kissed him senseless.

"And I love you, so much," she sighed, rolling her hips up and back to take everything he had to offer.

_Without another thought Derek pumped her pussy hard and fast – giving her the depth and penetration she demanded – his cock bumped against her cervix, once, twice and a third time! His mouth and hands found her breasts where he latched on to her heavy, ripe nipples – the air was hot, their sex was everywhere – he was close now … so fucking close!_

_Her engorged nipples swelled and swayed, tickling and teasing his face as he pulsed hard and fast for several more beats – she was breathless and so was he – her pussy drenched him, her muscles clenched around him, she whined in appreciation! Blissful oblivion was around the next pulse!_

_His lips found hers, reaching up, he took her hands in his and pinned her into submission – their arms akin to a halo above her head – as he leaned down and covered her mouth with his, mating his mouth with hers, sucking, nipping and fucking her now as if their lives depended on it._

_Her muscles clenched around him – her incessant systematic clenching was all he felt – he released her hands and felt her nimble fingers as she played with his sack – gently, softly, her touch … barely there, gently, softly – he fucked her while she carefully played … expertly bringing him to the base of his climax until his body trembled out of control and the peak of his orgasm came out of nowhere, funneling through his body like a freight train without breaks!_

_He came suddenly, and so did she._

_The fog of ecstasy became heavier and heavier still until visibility was lost all together._

_The lovers closed their eyes in bliss, safely resting under that protective sheath of passion._

_Nothing but heaps of tangled nerves and deliciously overworked muscles remained. _

_Their souls flew high above the fog now, twirling and dancing together within the enclave of the suite._

_Everything was right in the world, Derek counted to three, his cock popped from Meredith's depths and he fell asleep soon after that … and so did she._

###

Hours later, Derek rolled into Meredith's heat. He opened his eyes and melted _– just a little bit on the inside_ – there she sat naked, the satin sheet pulled up to her waist, propped up against her satin pillows, a crystal bowl of black grapes resting on her thighs as she held her ring up to the dim light still coming from the bathroom. She looked down and smiled – _her whole face softened like it often did when she met his eyes_ – she was more blushed and beautiful than he'd ever seen before. She was pregnant – _absolutely, positively radiant_ – he fell in love again, if it was possible _… again._

"Whatcha doing?" he asked softly.

She handed the ring to Derek and smiled. He twirled the new heirloom with his fingertips while she lifted the heavy bowl and placed it on the nightstand to her left. She scooted down and rolled into Derek's heat and turned to lie on her back. He did the same and held the ring up – _where they kept their eyes trained on its beauty_ – watching their unique stones sparkle brilliantly against one another in perfect harmony. Meredith sighed and Derek watched her smile.

"Violet," she said softly. Derek's heart raced, he watched Meredith blush.

"Heath," he whispered, a boy's name … he smiled and so did she, both still watching the ring.

"Daisy," Meredith replied. Derek chuckled; he glanced at her.

"Rose," Derek replied softly, she shook her head, _'no'_, raising her brow. He chuckled.

"Linden," Meredith whispered; her eyes glassy now.

"The tree?" Derek said with a low chuckle. He raised his brow.

"Yes … the tree!" she giggled and rolled her eyes.

Derek sighed happily and lowered his arm, the ring balanced on his pinky as he did. He rolled into Meredith's heat. His free hand found her belly where it stayed, the ring sparkling there now.

"I still like Sage for a boy," he mused softly.

"Me too …," she sighed. "But Violet's nice too …," she mused, he pressed his lips to her shoulder.

"It is," he agreed as she burrowed deeper into his heat, nothing but a spoon resting in his ladle now.

_Derek closed his eyes and he felt Meredith relax, he pushed his nose into her hair – she smelled of sex and flowers – he was home. _

"Derek," Meredith sighed.

"Hmm …," he said into her skin.

"Will you put it on me again – _the ring, I mean_ – I don't think I'll ever take this one off," she mused happily.

Derek smiled and pressed tiny kisses to Meredith's neck and shoulders as he slipped the ring onto her finger, snug against her wedding band, just where it was meant to stay for now and for all time.

"Happy Anniversary Meredith," Derek whispered, his chest tightened with love for the millionth time since they first met.

"Happy Anniversary Derek," Meredith whispered as she became heavy in his arms, safe and warm, still protected from the world by that fog of ecstasy that seemed to follow them … everywhere.

**-END-**

_Author's Note: There is piggyback fic for this story sitting in my notebook here, all female cast POV. I will try get to it soon. In the meantime, thank you to the few of you who read and commented on this ficlet. I hope it met your expectations for what might have been had the characters been able to focus on their … "business time"._


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